Kaleidoscope
by sophie-the-duchess
Summary: A mysterious conspiracy has left Anna without her memories. Anna x Kristoff. Rated M for violence, language, sexual content.
1. Escape

"There's plenty more shit where that came from, _Your Highness_."

Hans scowled at the noxious pile of manure that had just been dumped before him. Since being returned to his kingdom as a prisoner of war, he had been branded by his 12 elder brothers as a traitor and a criminal worthy of being sent to the highest security prison on the southernmost isle of the Southern Isles. For the past two years, day in and day out, the former prince once 13th in line for the throne had been reduced to stable-cleaning duty.

The night warden sneered once more at him before turning to leave. In a flash, Hans was up on his feet.

The warden stopped in his tracks. He looked down to see the prongs of a pitchfork, slick with fresh blood–his blood–protruding from his chest. Turning shakily, the last thing the warden saw before slipping into black oblivion was Hans' smirking face as he stood gripping the weapon that had landed the fatal blow.

The man fell with a sickening thud and was still. Bright red seeped into the hay beneath him as Hans casually strolled over, stepping over the fresh pool of blood that reflected the warm orange glow of the torchlight. Stamping a disrespecting boot atop the dead man's back, Hans reached down and easily slid the ring of keys from the warden's coat, pressing the man's lifeless body into the ground for good measure as he straightened back up. When he lifted his boot, a feculent print was left behind.

Upon reaching the docks, unseen under the cover of darkness, the prince found that his companions were already waiting. Two bulky silhouettes stood ready at the sails of their getaway ship, and Hans couldn't help but crack a devilish smile.


	2. Awakening

_Anna…_

The haze of sleep begin to lift from behind her eyes. Somewhere in a dark dreamworld, Anna began to float to the surface of consciousness.

She gradually became aware of her body as she awoke, her stiff limbs that throbbed with a dull ache as feeling returned from her toes and upward. It was an odd sensation.

 _Anna…_

Someone was calling her name. It sounded distant, but as she opened her eyes and began to focus, the voice became louder. Nearer.

Anna opened her eyes and winced as the burning bright light of day greeted her. Her sight felt tender, sore, and a headache threatened just below the surface as her vision flashed searing white.

"Where am I?" Anna mumbled out loud to herself, glancing around the room. The walls were a floral shade of pink, and appeared bare save for a couple pieces of furniture. A detailed stucco adorned the high ceiling, and as Anna looked back downward to scan herself, she saw that she was currently tucked in to the plush velour of a regal four-poster bed. She was surrounded by multiple pillows trimmed with gold thread. It was quite a luxurious space.

Out of her peripheral, something small and white scurried across the floor. Anna cocked her head.

From the other side of the room, another white ball scampered past. Anna swore she heard it squeak. Her heart began to beat faster. What was it? A dog? Cats? Mice?

Snowballs?

Before Anna could investigate, something else jumped up into the entire frame of her vision.

"Anna! You're awake!"

Anna froze, suddenly face-to-face with a snowman. An animated snowman. As in, it was staring at her, grinning with its mouth open, and blinking at her expectantly. Something like fear hitched in Anna's throat, bubbling up, the pressure building for only a second before she projected a blood-curdling scream directly into the face of the snowman.

The snowman didn't flinch, but only blinked.

"Okaaaaaaayyyyyyy. That's an interesting new way to say 'hello'."

Before the wide-eyed Anna could release another yell, the door to the room flew open and a woman in blue rushed in.

She was pretty, with pale skin and fair hair. Her gown sparkled in the natural light like a thousand snowflakes, sending tiny crystals dancing across the wall.

Shocked, all Anna could do was stare as the strange woman rushed over, throwing herself atop Anna and squeezing her in a hug.

"Oh, Anna! I was so worried," the woman lamented. The closeness caused Anna's heart to pump a million miles a minute, and she shivered when the unknown woman's breath trailed across her neck as she buried herself into the embrace.

Anna couldn't move. A minute passed before she spoke.

"That's very nice of you to be worried about me, but, um… who… are you?"

The woman carefully pulled away and stared into Anna's eyes. Anna couldn't help but look away sheepishly; the direct eye contact made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"What…" the woman in blue trailed off. Anna watched as she tried to form a coherent thought, her eyes searching for some answer to the question.

"It's me, Anna. It's me," she replied at last. "Your sister. Elsa."

Anna swallowed hard.

"I have… a sister?" Anna tried to remember. But when she went to recall the memory–any memory–she came up with nothing.

A feeling of foreboding washed over Anna. She couldn't remember her sister. She couldn't remember anything.

"What happened?" Anna asked. It was barely audible, even in the sharp silence of the room.

"You've been missing for days," Elsa whispered.

"Missing?" Anna blinked, sitting up slowly.

"Yes."

She tried to think. Tried to remember. It was like grasping at straws. Her mind felt hollow, empty… when she looked into the well of her memories, all she saw was a realm as black as pitch. There was nothing for her to latch onto.

"Where am I? How did I get here?" Agitated, Anna sat up straighter, rubbing her temples. This wasn't right.

"This is your room," Elsa seemed to hesitate. "Kristoff found you."

"Who? Ugh," Anna groaned, throwing the blanket off of her body. She suddenly felt hot. Why? Her hands began to shake. Her headache began to push forth, pressing at the front of her skull like an unwelcome intruder. The pressure felt like the dam would break soon, causing the pain to burst forth at any moment. Panic began to seep through her veins.

"He went into town, for– Anna, stop."

Anna was getting to her feet now, throwing her legs over the edge of the mattress. She felt dizzy. Colors danced behind her eyes. Anger welled up in her voice, although she didn't mean it to.

"And what is THAT?" she bit out, turning to point an accusing finger at the snowman. The snowman, who had been preoccupied with collecting balls of snow from under the bed, popped up with an armful of the little white spheres. They all smiled at her in unison.

"Oh, they have faces, too." Anna drawled flatly. _What the hell is going on?_

Immediately, she felt faint and her stomach lurched. She was going to be sick.

"I have to get out of here."

Anna forced herself from the bed and staggered for the door. Elsa lunged after her, reaching for her sister's arm.

"Anna, no, you need to lie down-"

"No, no! Leave me alone! Ack," Anna groaned and threw her hands to her face, holding her head as a wave of pain rushed through her body. Her head pulsed and her brain felt tight, almost swollen. The pain intensified for a few moments, and then everything went black with the sound of a shriek echoing through the darkness.


	3. Kristoff

_Soft voices whirled around Anna's head. She was dressed in her finest gown. A table hosting an extravagant cake stood not too far from where Anna was. People danced around her. Laughs and the din of conversation filled the atmosphere, but the sound was jumbled, as if put through a strainer._

 _She was at… a party?_

 _But for what, she did not know. A birthday party, maybe?_

 _She could hear a song come and go in her head. She could see the arms that encircled her in a dance. The fingers that brushed her cheek. The giddy excitement._

 _She could feel these things, but the vision was foggy…_

 _—-_

"Physically, she shows no signs of trauma."

Anna's eyes snapped open. Had she been dreaming?

The woman responded with a sigh. It sounded defeated.

"Are you absolutely _certain_ that you missed nothing in your examinations?"

Anna listened closely. Two people were conversing just outside the door. The woman's voice sounded like the one from earlier: Elsa.

"I have done all that I can. Unfortunately, there is no cure for amnesia. She will regain her memories in due time, or…"

Anna could hear the hint of sadness in his voice. "In rare cases, not at all."

Elsa choked back a sob, and there was the shuffling of clothes, and then feet.

"I've taken a blood sample to run some tests. I'm not sure what it could reveal, but time will tell."

A few moments passed, and then Elsa thanked the doctor before both sets of feet moved down the hallway before disappearing altogether.

—-

Anna hadn't even realized she had fallen back asleep again until the chirping of birds roused her from her slumber. When she opened her eyes, however, the room was gray, signaling that the sun had only just begun to rise on the horizon.

 _How long have I been asleep?_

Just like everything else, she had no idea.

"Hi."

The voice was soft, and deep, and Anna was surprised when she didn't jump at the sound of it. She turned to see a man sitting at the foot of her bed.

"Hello," Anna replied cautiously. The sight of him made her body feel warm. She could feel her face flush when her gaze met his.

"I'm glad you're awake," the man said softly, a relieved smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The sun was making its way over the horizon now, and sunlight began to filter into the room, illuminating the strange man's features. He had a boyish face, and a study build. His hair was a golden blonde, not as pale as Elsa's. His large hands rested on his knees. Anna felt the need to hold those hands, but she wasn't sure why.

"I know you," Anna said thoughtfully after a moment.

The man looked surprised, then quickly changed his expression.

"Elsa said you lost your memories."

Anna nodded. "Yeah. I don't remember anything. But you seem… familiar. We've met before, haven't we?"

The man nodded back thoughtfully. "My name is Kristoff."

Anna thought hard, but no memories of Kristoff came to mind. She sighed.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember you. But I know that I know you."

Anna swore she saw a hint of despair flash across his eyes, but Kristoff only chuckled in response. The sound tinkled in her ears like music.

"How long have I been asleep, Kristoff?" Anna asked.

"About three days," Kristoff grimaced. "The first day… the day we found you… you had a really bad fever. You were hypothermic, close to death, plus your body seemed to be purging something else, some other virus, from your system. We couldn't even let Olaf or the Snowgies near you for fear your body heat would melt them."

The offbeat joke went unheeded by Anna. Kristoff shook his head and continued.

"You talked in your sleep. A lot of nonsense, really. Towards the end, it sounded like you were having conversations with your parents. I… the doctor was afraid you wouldn't make it. And then, almost a full 24 hours after we found you, your fever broke."

Kristof opened his mouth to speak some more, but changed his mind and closed it.

Anna wondered vaguely where her parents were, and why they hadn't come to see her yet. She decided to save that question for her sister.

Suddenly, Anna made the connection.

"Kristoff… my sister said– Elsa said that _you_ were the one who found me?"

His body seemed to stiffen. "Yes. I did."

"What happened?"

Kristoff remained rigid. He took his time, thinking of a way to tell her. The subtly of his resistance was not lost on Anna and she sat up straighter in her bed, staring at him with pleading eyes. Kristoff wiped a clammy hand over his face and slicked his hair back, exhaling a deep breath before speaking.

"The Queen organized a search party for you. She was worried sick. The entire kingdom stopped what they were doing to aid in the search. As an iceman, I know the mountains in the area well, so she put me in charge of the expedition to the mountains. I– we found you in a stream, not far from the trading post. One of the men from our squad had the fastest horse in Arendelle, and so we sent you back here with him, so you could receive immediate treatment."

Anna didn't know how she could tell, but he wasn't being entirely truthful with his story. _Why does he feel the need to lie?_

She'd have to ask him later. For now, another part of his story was tugging at her thoughts, and she needed clarification.

"The Queen… was worried about me? Was I– am I important or something?"

Kristoff grinned. A sad smile.

"Of course you are. You're the princess. And your sister is the Queen."


	4. Elsa

Anna absentmindedly picked at a hardboiled egg on her plate with a silver fork.

Shortly after Kristoff's revelation of her royal heritage, Elsa had come in to relieve him of "babysitting" duty. As Arendelle's Official Ice Master and Deliverer, and in the midst of an unusual heat wave in late autumn, his services were direly needed by the kingdom.

Anna couldn't place it, but Elsa and Kristoff's interactions seemed familiar, but cold. They didn't even make eye contact when Kristoff stood, bowed, and strolled out of the room, affixing a dark woolen hat to his head as he crossed the threshold. He looked back briefly to give Anna a look before walking out of sight, but Anna couldn't decipher what the look meant. She did, however, notice for the first time how tall he really was.

Well, the first time she could actually remember.

As soon as Elsa sat down beside her sister on the bed, Anna's mind was a whirlwind of questions that spewed forth, and Elsa obligingly answered each one as quickly as Anna could ask. Their parents, the former monarchs, had perished in a shipwreck a few years previously on their way to their cousin's royal wedding in another kingdom. Elsa was crowned the reigning Queen not long after. They _were_ sisters, and there was just the two of them. Anna _was_ , in fact, a princess, and second in line for the Arendelle throne.

Before Anna could get to the topics of the living snowman or Kristoff, and her relationship with him, Elsa interrupted her string of questions to insist that they go down to the Great Hall for some breakfast. Anna was about to protest, before her stomach growled in a way that made her clench her teeth. Maybe some food would be nice. She could continue interrogating her sister afterwards. Plus, it would be refreshing to get out of bed. She felt incredibly weak from being still for so long.

Elsa currently sat across from the princess at the long dining table, similarly picking at what was left of her food with a fork. It seemed that although each woman was exhausted and starving for sustenance, they couldn't eat. The light shining in from the tall floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the Great Hall promised a beautiful day outside.

"Hey, Elsa," Anna picked up when the quiet of the room became nearly unbearable.

"Yes, Anna?" Elsa perked up, focusing on her sister. The attention suddenly made Anna nervous and she was scared to ask the question poking at the back of her mind.

"Ah, nevermind," Anna replied sheepishly, scratching her head. Her sister had been gracious enough to help her brush and braid her hair into two pigtails prior to arriving downstairs. When Elsa noticed Anna fingering a white streak that ran the length of her otherwise ginger locks, she said nothing.

"Anna, please. It's alright." Elsa gripped her fork with white knuckles, concerned about what she wanted to know next. There was still so much unsaid, so much she wasn't sure that this Anna–the one without memories of her previous self–could handle. Not to mention, she wasn't sure how frail she was after her ordeal. The last thing she wanted was to say something to cause her sister to faint again.

"When I woke up, like… two days ago? Um, there was this… snowman… "

Elsa's eyes went wide and Anna shook her head in shame.

"You know what, forget it. Probably just a fever dream," Anna quickly laughed it off. In good humor, she popped a piece of egg into her mouth and smiled at her sister. Surprisingly, her sister was smiling back.

"Anna, I have something to show you."

—-

The warmth of the sun felt wonderful on Anna's face as she stepped outside, trailing the Queen. The courtyard was devoid of the lively bustle that would normally be present on any other day; Elsa had ordered the gates be closed to the general public until Anna was back and well.

Elsa had helped Anna pick out an appropriate outfit for the weather; a fitted, pale green top with three-quarter sleeves and a high collar, layered with a mossy green leather corset and matching ankle length skirt with floral embroidery at the hem. The skirt was heavy, but breezy enough to keep her cool. When she looked in the mirror, Anna liked the way her orange hair complimented the earthy tones of her dress.

A pair of stone fountains stood in the center of the spacious bailey, the gushing and trickling streams of water dancing in the sunlight. Elsa led her away from the door, her slippers clicking softly on the gray cobblestone as Anna followed the Queen to the middle, closer to the fountains.

She had yet to see Elsa look as frightened as she did now.

"Okay," Elsa started, putting both hands palms up to signal for Anna to stand where she was. "Don't freak out."

Anna stopped, watching her sister begin to breathe heavily, as if she were meditating. Readying herself for something. The princess' curiosity was piqued.

In one swift, fluid motion, the woman in blue brought her hand up, pointing her fingers toward the sky. It was a graceful, seemingly arbitrary gesture, but as Anna watched, the fountain to the left of the Queen changed. The water that once flowed downward shot up; where Anna expected the liquid to fall to the ground, instead a pillar of sculpted of ice had been erected.

Elsa repeated the _swish_ of her hand to the other side, having the same effect on the second fountain.

Anna's vision swam with the sight.

"You have… ice powers?"

Anna felt her balance sway. She took a step back and stumbled, her vision blurring as she felt herself falling.

She expected to hit the hard ground and was caught off-guard when she fell into a pair of arms instead. Muscular arms. Anna looked up into Kristoff's face, an expression of worry plastered across his handsomely round features.

"Kristoff," Anna breathed. As if on cue, she felt her pulse begin to calm. An image of him holding her close flickered across her mind's eye, but she couldn't be sure if it was a real memory.

Elsa rushed to the princess' side.

"Oh, Anna, I'm sorry! I knew it would be too much for you in this state."

Kristoff helped Anna to her feet, with Elsa embracing her in an apologetic hug. A stunned Anna could only reciprocate by patting her sister on the back in what she hoped would be interpreted as a comforting action.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Kristoff mumbled, rubbing the back of his head with a gloved hand. When Anna turned to see him, she was surprised to find him decked out head-to-toe in mountain gear, despite the sweltering heat.

"I was unloading a delivery of ice, over there, and I saw– it was not my intention to barge in on your privacy–"

Elsa waved off his obvious unease with a flick of her hand. Anna inadvertently flinched at the motion and Elsa quickly returned her hands to her sides, for her sister's sake.

"Maybe we should get you back to bed, Anna," Elsa suggested, reaching for her sister. Anna instinctively shrunk back from her sister's hands, the hands with the power of ice, and felt a pang of regret at her own insensitivity when she saw Elsa's face crumple from the rejection.

"I'm sorry," Anna said. "It-it's not you, I just, I don't think I feel well enough to walk right now. Is it alright if… if… "

Anna looked up at Kristoff for confirmation, who in turn looked to the Queen. Elsa bit her lip. She seemed tormented at whether or not allowing Kristoff to carry Anna to her room would be a good idea. Anna wondered why. Anna also wondered why, for some reason, she felt so at ease with this man she had just met. Exactly what was the history of their relationship?

She mad a mental note to find out.

"Yes, I suppose…that is, if you don't mind, Ice Master."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

As if lifting a down pillow, Kristoff scooped Anna up into his strong hold and carried her into the castle.

—

"What is your relationship to my sister?"

Kristoff was taken aback by the question. Anna felt his arms tense around her as he laid her down on the bed. "What do you mean?"

Anna huffed. "I mean, when you're not around, she calls you Kristoff, and then as soon as I'm there it's all formalities and she calls you by your title. The same goes for you."

Kristoff shrugged and pulled the blanket over Anna.

"She's my Queen. Referring to each other in a respectful way is what manners dictate, don't you think?"

Anna scrunched her lips. She caught herself fiddling the blanket nervously between her fingers and inwardly commanded herself to stop.

"Then why don't you call me 'princess'?"

Kristoff froze. Anna pressed him further, sitting up.

"How do you know me?"

"That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

Kristoff shook his head and moved to turn away from her, but was stopped by Anna's delicate fingers around his wrist.

"Anna, don't."

The sudden intensity in his voice scared Anna, and she reluctantly loosened her hold on him. He carefully pulled away from her and sighed, rubbing his face with the palm of his gloved hand.

"You should get some rest."

He took one last glance in her direction, adjusting his cap before walking away. Unaware of the reason for his distance, Anna felt the tears well in her eyes, staining the pillow as she laid her head back down upon it and willed herself into peaceful oblivion.

—-

 **A/N: Please review! I love feedback :)**


	5. Nightmare

It had been two whole days since she had last seen Kristoff.

After he had left her following the episode with Elsa's ability, Anna fell into a restless, dreamless sleep. Once or twice she thought she heard his voice breaking through the fog of sleep, but whenever she awoke, he was nowhere to be found. Her heart sank with the disappointment each time.

When she finally got out of bed in time for a late lunch, Elsa was waiting for her with a strained smile. Despite the confusing pain Anna felt at Kristoff's absence, Anna managed a genuine smile for her sister and pulled her into a hug. She could feel her sister's body relax with the action.

She had spent the rest of that day touring the palace with the Queen, enjoying the close relationship they were quickly rebuilding. Elsa pointed out the kitchen, the guest rooms, the great staircase, the throne room, and the gallery. Adjoining the gallery was a studio, and Anna couldn't help but notice the discombobulated state it was in; paint was splattered here and there, and paintings-in-progress hung haphazardly on the walls. On a table off to the side sat a bowl of red fruits, yet on the easel placed before the scene, the fruits had been painted in colorful shades of purple and green with broad, lively strokes. Elsa chuckled and reminded Anna that this was _her_ studio; the princess had picked up painting and portraiture as her professional pastime, and her eccentric style only reflected her bubbly personality.

It caused Anna to smile perhaps the widest smile she had displayed since losing her memory.

The second day, Elsa had tentatively reintroduced Anna to Olaf, the talking snowman. Anna felt more at ease this time around; she had a feeling she had known the snowman since childhood. Olaf, in turn, reintroduced Anna to his little brothers: Flurry and Powder.

They were goofy, and Anna laughed at their antics as they tried their best to cheer her up, but Anna could tell the Ice Queen had probably given them a stern talking to about being on their "best behavior" for the princess' sake.

At supper that evening, Anna made a solid attempt to begin recording the names of the castle staff to her new memory. The plump old maid with brown hair in a tight chignon who served their food was Olga, and she had a little daughter named Lotta who sometimes liked to help; the chef was named Lennart; the young woman who fluffed Anna's pillows and tidied up her bed each morning was named Helga; the guard who stood watch at the princess' door each night (not a normal occurrence, Elsa explained, but just a precaution while Anna was sick) was named Hansel, and Anna learned that his wife Adel was a pastry chef and cake decorator in town who often did work for the royal family.

The doctor's name who checked up on her once or twice was Doctor Franz, and the Ice Master was named Kristoff.

 _Kristoff_.

She couldn't deny that she missed him. But why? She felt a connection to him, stronger than any connection she felt to anyone else she'd "met" over the course of the past few days. It was as if her body, her heart, remembered him– even though her brain didn't.

What was the nature of their relationship prior to her memory loss? Had they been acquaintances? Friends?

Lovers?

Anna felt a heat pool between her thighs as she pondered the thought.

Maybe she was just being ridiculous. Maybe she only felt an attachment to him because he had been the one to find her. Maybe, in her feverish state, she had seen him, and her newfound consciousness had latched onto the idea of him as someone she thought she knew.

Maybe he had a thing for Elsa.

"Anna, are you alright?"

Anna snapped out of her daze to see her sister beside her at the dinner table giving her a look of concern. The princess looked down in shame.

"I'm fine. Elsa…" Anna paused to chew her bottom lip anxiously. "What is my relationship with Kristoff?"

The usually self-controlled Queen dropped her soup spoon in bewilderment at the question. It contacted the floor with a resounding metallic _clang_.

"He's the Ice Master," Elsa laughed, a high-pitched, jittery laugh. "He's been delivering ice for the kingdom for years–"

Anna huffed and crossed her arms. "So now _you're_ lying to me too?"

Elsa crossed both hands over her chest and shook her head.

"Anna, it's the truth."

"Not the whole truth."

The tension in the air was palpable, tangible, as the two sisters stared each other down, the one with fair hair looking more like a fawn caught in a hunter's trap.

"Anna, I don't think it would be prudent to–"

The princess stood bolt upright, staring down at her sister who visually trembled with the anticipation of the direction the conversation was heading.

"Were we lovers?"

"Anna–"

"Did you steal him away from me?"

" _Anna_ –"

"Do you love him?"

Frustrated, the Queen jumped up and slammed both hands on the table. Anna could see the patch of ice crystals that formed on the wood around her palms.

"Anna, _enough_! This isn't like you," Elsa scolded. Using that "big sister" tone.

"Yeah, well, I don't remember what I'm _supposed_ to be like."

Without so much as a glance at her sister, Anna left the room, leaving a shaken Elsa behind.

—-

 _Somewhere nearby, a fire crackled in a fireplace. Anna felt scalding hot, both internally and externally. She felt feverish, as if boiling blood pumped through her body. Yet, somehow, she also felt ice cold. Her clothes felt as if they were frozen. Sweat beaded on her skin like chilled drops of rain, and somewhere on her back, icy hands were at work, pulling the frigid cloth from her petite frame._

 _In her dreamlike state, Anna squinted at the memory, trying to get a closer look at the scene. But the vision was fractured, like a shattered mirror._

 _A man was removing her damp clothes. Anna could feel the emotions she felt; safety, security, sadness… love. Love was the most prominent angle of the memory, and the princess could feel it swell inside her chest like a balloon about to burst. But she also felt a sharp pang of regret, and for what, she did not have the slightest idea. She also felt fear; fear stemming from the knowledge that, deep down in her subconscious, she was aware that she was dying._

 _Anna could feel her body shake violently when the last of her garments was removed, shivering despite the toasty air that filled the cabin. She tried to whisper a name but no sound came out; instead, only a slight, shallow breath ghosted between her dry and cracked lips._

 _Arms wrapped her up, enclosing her, pulling her against a warm body. The man was shirtless, forcibly bringing Anna's own nude, unconscious body flush against his, desperate to share his body heat to save her life._

 _"Please," the voice whispered, low and quivering against her neck. Anna could feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks. "Don't die."_

—-

When Anna awoke, she found that she had been sobbing in her sleep. Her throat felt choked and her breathing hitched. Her pillow was soggy and her itchy eyes rimmed with moisture. Wetting her lips with her tongue, Anna rolled over onto her back and clasped a hand to her neck, trying to catch her breath. After a minute of calming her nerves, the princess took the chance to gain her bearings.

It was morning. She had been awoken by a hellish nightmare, which she couldn't be sure was just a dream to begin with. Today would mark the third day of Kristoff avoiding her.

 _Is that really what he's doing?_ Anna chided herself, perturbed by her determination to make him out to be something he might not be. _Maybe you really only know him as the Ice Master._

She needed answers. And she wouldn't get those answers as long as he avoided her.

Unless she sought him out herself.

Dressing quickly, Anna brushed and braided her hair and slipped out before anyone could stop her.


	6. Anna

It was a temperate day, the unusual warmth of the autumn air offset by the nip of the breeze. Anna didn't quite know where she was going, but she knew she had to find him.

She had walked out of a side door leading to the chef's gardens she had noticed earlier, and assumed it would be one of the few exits least likely to be guarded. She had surmised correctly.

Although in a bit of a hurry to get away from the castle undetected, Anna couldn't help but pause at the beauty of the garden. Deep emerald cucumbers grew in swaths alongside the paved footpath, intermingled with golden yellow squashes, while luscious scarlet tomatoes snaked up wooden trellises near the gate. On the far side of the terrace, Anna could see vibrant sunflowers with stalks twice as tall as herself swaying in the breeze that was coming in from the sea. The entire garden was bordered by a shallow gray stone wall, the only boundary separating the greenery from the ocean waves below, but even without the wall the garden was up high enough to be safe from any seawater. Across the fjord, a skyline of majestic mountains lined the inlet. A large trade ship with wide, puffy sails was making its way inland. The view was breathtaking.

As quietly as she could, Anna snuck out of the rickety old gate and closed it carefully behind her. Making it out of the bailey unseen was just as easy, as the Queen's orders for privacy were still in effect, leaving the yard completely void of life.

But, Anna had failed to plan for one thing: the main gate was closed, and the two guards posted there would be unlikely to let her leave. The princess' heart began to beat rapidly. _What to do now?_

Suddenly, the heavy wood of the gate jolted forward, the sound of metal gears clanking and churning as the doors slowly creaked open. A horse drawn carriage pulled forward through the open frame, steered by a coachman. Now was Anna's chance.

Thinking quickly, Anna frantically looked around her until she spotted a decently-sized pebble at her feet. She snatched it up and, in one swift move, chucked it as hard as she could at the horse, inwardly cursing herself. The small rock made solid contact with the equine's side and the animal railed upward in response, causing the driver to shout as he struggled to maintain control. The two guards ran forward to help, and Anna stole her chance to run through the open gate while they were distracted, silently apologizing to the frightened horse on her way out.

—-

Anna was beginning to see through all of the holes in her plan. For starters, she hadn't anticipated the fact that she would be recognized. As she made her way into town, the stares and whispers as she passed the common folk around her did not go unnoticed. Secondly, she hadn't a clue as to where she was going. Anna figured she should avoid the business of the market, as there was bound to be a handful of guards there who would be more than happy to escort her back to the palace. She decided to head toward the docks and find her way from there.

And there he was.

Anna's heart skipped a beat.

For the first time (that she could remember), he wasn't donned in his dark mountain gear, but rather in street clothes consisting of a pale blue shirt and a navy wool vest. His fitted black trousers, cinched at the waist with a red sash, attractively hugged his muscular thighs and buttocks. On his feet, oddly enough, he still wore his pointed snow boots. Regardless, he was a vision, and Anna found herself trying to steady her breathing as her chest palpitated with excitement.

She noticed, from a distance, how truly well-built he was, tall and strong with broad shoulders. His golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, and his brown eyes sparkled as he interacted with a gaggle of school-aged children who crowded around him, chattering excitedly.

"Ready?" Kristoff asked.

"Ready!" the gaggle of children chanted in response.

Kristoff hefted a rather large block of ice onto an upturned crate. Then, placing two fingers of an ungloved hand into his mouth, he whistled– loudly.

Anna looked around, not quite sure what to expect. From the corner of her eye, she could see something galloping towards them. Was that… a reindeer?

The animal hurtled towards them, its tongue hanging aside of its mouth and flapping wildly in the wind, skirting to a halt in front of the children who shrieked and clapped with glee. Kristoff patted the animal on the back.

" _Do you know what time it is?_ " Kristoff slewed in a goofy, deep voice. He seemed to be speaking on behalf the reindeer. Anna stifled a giggle.

"I think they do, Sven," Kristoff responded to the reindeer, but really to himself. "It's snow cone time!"

The kids gasped in unison and each pulled out a cup. Sven the reindeer cracked his head to one side, eyed the cube of ice, and then began to bizarrely grind his antlers along the top of the ice, moving his head back and forth, gradually gaining speed. He moved so fast, Anna's eyes could only see a blur of movement as finely shredded bits of ice began to rain from the block. Surprisingly, by the time he was done, every single kid's cup had been filled with shaved ice. Not a single bit of ice had missed.

Anna couldn't help herself. She applauded, impressed. Kristoff's head shot up in her direction, his face reddening as he finally noticed her standing there. He inwardly hoped that she had not been watching him the entire time. Anna stopped her applause to wave. When he smiled sheepishly and waved back at her, she felt her own face begin to warm.

"Thank you, Sven!" the children cried, hugging the reindeer and Kristoff before scampering off with their icy treats.

" _You're welcome,_ " Kristoff replied in his mock Sven voice. Sven barked happily.

Anna sauntered over. She couldn't stop her hands from fidgeting with the front of her skirt, so she held them behind her back instead.

"So, the Ice Master has many talents, huh?"

Kristoff chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head, avoiding her gaze.

"Well, that was all Sven." At the mention of his name, Sven began to pant excitedly, looking from Kristoff to Anna and back again.

"Hello, Sven," Anna laughed, reaching out to pet his muzzle. He jumped her with a lick on her cheek instead. "Oh!"

"Sven!" Kristoff chastised, rather sternly, pointing towards the ground. With a pout, the reindeer plopped into a sitting position on his fuzzy hindquarters, lowering his head.

"It's okay, really," Anna ensured. Sven's tail began to _thump_ at her words. He seemed a familiar creature, but Anna couldn't place her finger on it. She shook the thought away. "You really have a way with kids, Kristoff. Who would've known?"

She looked up and her eyes met his. They stayed with their gazes locked for a moment, each one smiling shyly, before Kristoff finally looked away. He had the most beautiful amber eyes she could remember ever seeing. The Ice Master cleared his throat anxiously.

"An- I mean, my Princess, what brings you outside the palace today?"

Anna shrugged. "Adventure, I guess." _To see you._

Kristoff rolled his eyes and smacked a hand to his forehead.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"What?"

"You snuck out, didn't you?" He peeked at her from between his fingers. Anna grinned a devilish grin. Her perfect turquoise eyes glinted with mischief.

 _God, how I've missed that smile,_ Kristoff thought.

"I didn't sneak out, per se," Anna countered, crossing her arms. "I just… left without telling anyone."

"That's it," Kristoff sighed, reaching for her. "I'm taking you back."

"Kristoff, no-"

Ignoring her complaints of protest, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "It's for your own good, Your Highness."

"Kristoff, please, you don't understand," Anna pleaded, pounding a weak fist on his back. "I can't stand it there anymore!"

His curiosity was piqued. "Is everything alright?"

Anna sighed and relaxed against him, her hot breath ghosting over the back of his neck. He stiffened immediately. It was subtle, but she felt his body react to her. She felt his muscles go tense as she surrendered and melted her body atop his shoulder.

"Everything is… fine." She sighed again. Everything was not fine. She had been cooped up for days, hardly able to eat, rarely leaving her chamber, and although it had been nice to begin reacquainting with her sister and Olaf and the Snowgies, she couldn't stop thinking of…

 _Him_.

"Please, Kristoff. I just want one day of fun. Then you can haul me back to my prison."

"A castle is hardly a prison, my lady," Kristoff snorted, a little more rudely than he intended.

"Kristoff, please…"

Grunting, Kristoff set her down, her body slowly sliding down his until her feet touched the ground. He gulped when he felt the press of her breasts against his chest.

"The Queen is going to have my head for this."

—-

"Doctor, thank you so very much for coming," Elsa said, greeting the good doctor at the door. "I hope the ride in was not an inconvenience."

"Please, my Queen," Doctor Franz replied humbly, bowing. "Aside from a spooked horse, it was a lovely ride. Perfect weather for it. How is she?"

Elsa wrung her hands. "She is doing better. Physically, she is doing better."

"And her condition?"

Elsa blinked back a tear. "I fail to see any improvement."

"I am truly sorry, Your Majesty. But I do have something that you need to see. It is an urgent matter."

Elsa led the doctor to a room off the main parlor and then gestured for the servants to leave them be in privacy, at the behest of the doctor. Doctor Franz opened his bag, setting up the materials he needed on the ornate table that stood at the room's center.

Holding the vial of Anna's deep red blood in one hand, the doctor picked up a glass pipette containing a clear liquid in his other hand and depressed the bulb at the top, letting loose a single drop of the substance into the vial. He capped it off with a cork stopper shook the vial gently, and when he held it up for the Queen to see, part of Anna's blood had separated into a cloudy, green fluid.

"What…"

The doctor held up a finger, signaling that he was to continue. Using a syringe, he extracted the green fluid from the vial with the blood and released it into its own beaker. He then picked up a second pipette, this one containing a dark blue liquid, and dropped a few drops of the chemical into the vial containing the unknown substance; almost immediately, the green swirled and hissed, turning a rather violent shade of purple that seemed to glow faintly.

"What does it mean," Elsa whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. She already knew.

"Poison."


	7. One Day Of Fun

Kristoff had resigned to his fate. He was to be Anna's guardian for the day, and sure enough by the time he would return her to the castle that evening he'd be lucky enough to keep his job, as well as his head. But he couldn't really complain. Although the thought of spending the entire day with the Princess terrified him, he also couldn't deny the elation he felt. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since…

"Kristoff, over here!" Anna cried, jumping up and down. The particular kiosk that Anna had taken an interest in hosted a bevy of exotic fruits, none of which he recognized as being native to Arendelle or the surrounding areas. They must have been imported from the tropics. The vendor, a small bespectacled man with olive skin and dark hair offered a sampling of the cut fruits to the Princess, explaining what each one was and from whence it hailed. Kristoff walked over.

"This one," Anna popped it into his mouth without warning. "This one is a pineapple, but it's not actually a type of apple. It's pretty ugly, not gonna lie, but it tastes amazing."

The flesh of the fruit was stringy and soft, and the tangy, sour taste caused Kristoff's mouth to tingle.

"These are all so wonderful. Nothing like the berries we have at the castle," Anna cooed. She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Have I eaten any of these before?"

Kristoff laughed and pointed to a barrel of fuzzy yellow-pink spheres. "You've had those, last year on your birthday."

Anna eyed him curiously. "How do you know that?"

 _Shit_.

The mountain man fumbled for an excuse.

"The Queen had me deliver them… along with the ice for the party." He cleared his throat. "They're peaches."

"Peaches," Anna repeated, closing her eyes. He knew she was trying to remember. When she frowned, he knew she could not. It caused his heart pain to see her this way.

 _But then again, it's for the best. It's better for her if she doesn't remember._

Kristoff reached into his vest and pulled out a leather pouch. He didn't have much coin, but he wanted to buy her whatever she wanted.

"For the Princess, no charge," the man insisted, his accent thick and foreign.

They left the fruit stand with a small sack of peaches, some oranges, something called a "papaya," and a large pineapple. He only hoped the castle's cooks would know how to cut and prep such strange produce. Maybe they could jam them.

It was midday by the time they had climbed to the rocky outcropping overlooking the harbor. Sven had tried to climb along with them, but he was not gifted with the balance for it. Kristoff had treated him to some carrots and a peach before leaving him behind, promising to be back before long.

Finding a wide, flat ledge, Kristoff led Anna to sit and handed her an orange. When she tried biting the peel, Kristoff couldn't help but laugh, a deep, hearty, laugh. A more genuine laugh had not erupted from his belly in some time. Anna didn't even flinch. She was not one who embarrassed easily, and he admired that about her. Among other things.

She scrunched her face at him anyway and mustered all her strength to bite through the peel just to scorn him, piercing the fruit with her perfect teeth. A stream of juice spurted from the break in the skin, causing citrus to dribble down her chin, coating her lips. Oh, how Kristoff wanted to…

"Here," Kristoff smiled, reaching out his hand for the fruit. Grudgingly, Anna plopped her orange into his waiting palm. He showed her how to break the outer shell with a fingernail, pulling and ripping at the fruit until it was naked. He then showed her how to pop the orange into individual segments, and handed it back to her.

"How do you know how to do that?" Anna asked incredulously, wiping her mouth with one hand and taking the segmented citrus from him with the other. "Oranges don't grow in Arendelle, do they?"

Kristoff turned toward the sea. "It's tradition. My parents used to give me an orange in my stocking every year for Christmas. I'm sure your family does… did the same thing. It's very common."

Anna remembered Elsa explaining her parents' demise to her. She felt sad knowing that they were gone, but perhaps not as sad as she must've felt when she had her memories of them.

"Where do your parents live?" Anna asked, scanning the town below. From up here she could see the town square, with it's multitude of building and row houses, leading to the mountains dotted with isolated cabins and small villages here and there. Across the inlet, the mountains seemed uninhabited.

"I don't know," he half-lied. It was the truth; he wasn't sure what had become of his parents prior to being found by the ice harvesters. All he could attest to was being separated from them at a young age. When he had returned to his childhood home years ago, it was abandoned. More than likely, his parents were dead.

Anna didn't say anything further, and when he turned to look at her, sitting beside him, he found himself captivated. A few strands of auburn hair had come loose from the climb, and the soft wisps blew about her face, dancing in the ocean breeze. Her eyes, as teal as the water below, fixated on him, giving him a look of sorrow but saying nothing. The air was palpable.

Softening the tension between them, Anna popped a slice of orange into her mouth and chewed, _mmmm_ ing. She handed a piece to Kristoff, who accepted it, despite holding his own orange in his hand.

"You said earlier that I had a birthday party," Anna started, breaking the silence.

"Yes." Kristoff chewed his own piece of fruit cautiously.

"I remember."

"You do?" Kristoff gulped his orange segment in one slice. His hands began to shake. "What do you remember about it?"

The Ice Master remembered all too well the birthday party they had thrown for the Princess the previous year. Elsa had arranged the whole thing, with Olaf and Kristoff's help. But the Queen had been dreadfully sick, and her sniffles and sneezes had given birth to the Snowgies, ending the festivities early. That was the night Anna and he…

"I… had a dream," Anna explained. "When I was sick. But it wasn't a dream, it was real. Like a memory." Her face took on a wistful expression.

"I remember a cake, and dancing, and Elsa… " Anna twisted her expression. _And a man with gloves._

 _White gloves._

"What is it?" Kristoff inquired.

Anna held a hand to her head. "It wasn't a birthday party."

Kristoff relaxed, visibly relieved that she didn't remember. Anna arched an eyebrow at him.

"You must be remembering your sister's coronation," Kristoff mused, turning back to look at the sea. Anna looked off into the distance as well.

She remembered the man who had danced with her. The fingers that had brushed her cheek affectionately had been thin and clothed in fine white fabric. She looked to Kristoff's own large, masculine hands; although currently bare, she had only ever seen Kristoff in black gloves.

She remembered other things, too, and they came trickling into her mind suddenly like a slow stream of viscous honey. Dancing with the man, talking with him on the balcony, sneaking about the castle together, holding his gloved hand in her own. The giddiness she felt with him.

Was it love? Had she loved the man with the white gloves?

And where was he now?

The revelation dropped in her gut like a stone. The man she has been remembering must not be Kristoff. Then why did she feel such a strong attraction to the blonde-haired man sitting beside her? The only one who has brought her a feeling of familiarity throughout her entire ordeal?

Anna stood. Kristoff eyed her with concern.

"Man, I am thirsty. Where can a girl get a drink around here?"

—-

Anna threw the door to the tavern open a little too hastily. Her nerves had made her jittery, and she needed something to distract her from thoughts of the man with the white gloves.

She may not remember much of– well, anything– but she knew that taverns were the kind of place that common men and women went to forget their troubles and enjoy a good time.

What could be the harm?

"I'll have an ale," Kristoff requested, plopping down at the bar. Anna followed suit, taking the barstool next to him.

"And for the lady? A refreshing glass of lingonberry juice, perhaps?"

 _What the-?_

"No, I do believe I'll have an ale as well."

Kristoff choked on his sip of beer.

"You can't be serious," he groaned. The bartender seemed to share his concerns.

"My Princess, might I recommend a diluted wine instead?" Such a manly drink as ale should not be served to a woman of her… esteem.

"No, I think an ale will be fine," Anna responded excitedly, tapping her hands on the bar. Kristoff couldn't help but notice that the mischievous glint had returned to her eye. "Just fine."

"Bottoms up," he said sardonically when the frothy mug was placed before her. She had never really been much for the drink. He would know.

Anna took the stein in her delicate hands and tentatively took a sip. It was bitter to her tongue, with an underlying hint of malty sweetness. It was not altogether unpleasant, and as Anna found herself consuming the beverage in large gulps, she felt a warming in her belly.

"Easy now, Princess," the Ice Master laughed, his own ale nearly half gone. Anna finished her drink with a smack of her lips and a sigh, setting the empty wooden stein back on the bar.

"Another!" she cried, turning back and forth on her stool giddily. Her body felt warm and buzzed, every nerve skittering with the effects of the alcohol. Kristoff shook his head.

"Anna…" he began to warn, but then thought otherwise. After this day, Anna would surely be locked up again until her illness had subsided. As for Kristoff… well, his job was already as good as gone.

"I am the Princess, and you would do well to mind your station in my presence," Anna snapped. The Ice Master's eyes widened at her boldness, but she couldn't keep up the charade, bursting into a fit of giggles at his reaction.

"You should have seen your face! Lighten up, buddy." Anna punched him lightly on the arm, then gasped in delight when a fresh mug was placed before her.

 _Oh, boy…_

—-

It was all he could do to keep her from swinging from the chandelier.

The Princess stood on the stage at the back of the bar, singing along with the folk pianist and the accordionist.

Of course, she either didn't know the words or couldn't remember them, but she seemed to be doing just fine making them up as she went along, much to the amusement of the tavern's other patrons. It was evening now, and the usually well-behaved dinner crowd had shuffled out no less than an hour earlier.

Well, the ones who hadn't wanted to see a sloppy Princess Anna had left, anyway.

Kristoff finished his seventh mug of ale and set it down. Or was it his eighth? He wasn't really sure, but if the trail of empty mugs on the table of the booth where he sat were any indication…

The collection of rowdy revelers who had been partaking in Anna's impromptu sing-along erupted into applause. Kristoff looked up in time to see her stumbling over to him.

"Kristoff!" she breathed, sliding into her seat across from him. "This is _so_ fun. So fun." She hiccuped.

"I do believe you've had enough, my Princess," Kristoff said warmly, pulling the half-full mug she had acquired somewhere away from her mouth.

"Nonsense, Sir Kristofer," Anna slurred in a mockingly royal tone. She signaled to the bartender for another ale with a wave of her small hand. A trepidatious alewife brought another full stein to the Princess. Kristoff offered her a chagrined smile.

"Let's talk," Anna commanded, sipping her beer. Her hands were shaky holding the weight of the glass, and a drop of the amber liquid trailed down her cheek.

"About what?"

"About _you_."

"I'm afraid there's not much to talk about, Your Highness," Kristoff replied evenly. He leaned back in his seat, stretching his arm over the back of the booth. Anna snorted.

"Call me Anna. An-na. I don't know why you've picked up on these formalities all of a sudden… it's so _weird_." She buried her face in her ale once more.

Truth be told, Kristoff had been making a conscious effort of using her proper titles, rather than her Christian name, after her accusations a few days earlier. The impersonal nature of it all also helped to keep the sadness he felt at uttering her name at bay. Her beautiful name. Anna…

"Let's play a game," she said suddenly, slamming her stein down clumsily.

"We don't have any cards, Princess."

"An-na," she reiterated, sounding it out for him with ire. "And we don't need any cards. This game is a speaking game."

Kristoff chuckled. Her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light of the tavern.

"Okay, and what is this game called?"

"It's called, 'Tell The Truth.'"

If it hadn't been for the ale coursing through his body, the title of the game alone would have been enough to fill the burly mountain man with dread. But, they had enough to drink. He'd entertain her for now.

"How do you play?"

Anna thought for a moment. "We each take turns asking the other a question. You have to answer with the truth. If you refuse to answer, or if you tell a _lie_ ," she pointed an accusing finger at Kristoff. "Then you have to pay a forfeit."

"A what?"

Anna groaned, her patience thin with booze. "You have to do something I tell you to do. Something embarrassing."

"Ladies first," Kristoff offered, signifying for the game to begin. Anna wasted no time.

"How old am I?"

Kristoff took a drink from his beer. "Twenty."

"How do you know that?"

Kristoff held up a finger. "No so fast, Princess. My turn."

Anna rolled her eyes. " _An-na._ "

" _Anna_ ," Kristoff sighed. The name rippled off of his tongue like warm honey. "How old do you think I am?"

The Princess squinted her eyes, thinking for a moment.

"Twenty-four." She guessed.

"Twenty-three."

"Damn!"

Kristoff raised his eyebrows at her curse. She didn't notice.

"How long have you known me?" Anna asked, leaning forward over the table between them.

"About two years. Since you were eighteen."

Anna squinted, but nodded in approval, satisfied with his answer.

Kristoff's turn.

"What do you remember…" he swallowed, hard. "… about me?"

Maybe it was the ale talking, but he had to know. It had been eating away at him, since that first morning, when she had confessed that she knew he knew him, despite her memory loss.

Anna's face turned somber.

"I… I don't, really," she near-whispered. Her pink tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip. How Kristoff wanted to take that bottom lip between his teeth. He felt himself twitch below at the thought. Beside himself, he shook his head to clear it. _Shame on you_.

Anna exhaled a breath. "I've had memories come back in fragments, but not many. I remembered the coronation ball, but not completely. It's foggy, like looking through a window in a warm bath chamber in the winter. Or like looking through a kaleidoscope. You know what I'm saying?"

Kristoff nodded, willing her with his eyes to continue.

"I had a dream… a memory… oh, fudge," Anna gave up, chugging the rest of her ale for courage.

"Anna," Kristoff pleaded, reaching across the table to grasp her delicate hand in his. She blushed at the touch, and Kristoff swore he had never seen her as beautiful as she was now.

"I had some memory… of… being rescued," Anna forced herself to spit the words out, her hand rapidly becoming clammy in his. She remembered the cabin, and the warm body against hers, begging her to live. "You said you were the one who found me, remember?"

Kristoff paled. He remembered. He had told her that. But he knew he had not told her the entire story. The Ice Master looked away.

"I found you, yes, but I was not the one who… "

When Kristoff looked back to her, a sad smile played across her lips.

"You're lying," she accused. "You said you had another man, a man with a faster horse, bring me straight back to the castle. Isn't that what you told me?"

Kristoff tensed. "I refuse to answer the question." He watched as her shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Then, I have to give you a dare," she mused, willing herself to sound perky and not at all disappointed. She looked around, but her heart wasn't in it. Scrunching her lips, she decided to simply pick something easy.

"You must finish your drink all at once."

Kristoff polished off his nearly empty ale in one final mouthful. Despite the fullness of his belly from the beer, he began to feel hollow inside. He removed her hand from his and regretted it immediately.

"My turn," Anna said at long last, hiccuping. Kristoff was pretty sure that she had asked the last question in the previous string of questioning, but he didn't bother correcting her.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully before locking her gaze on him. "How did we meet?"

Kristoff froze. He didn't like the way this game was going. She seemed incredibly interested in him, and at the current rate, he was going to end up breaking her heart… again.

"I'm the Ice Master for the kingdom," Kristoff willed his voice not to tremble. "When the Queen brought me into her employ several years ago, we become acquainted. We've always been cordial–"

Anna groaned. "Why are you lying?"

"It's not a lie."

"But it's not the truth. The whole truth."

"Anna–"

"Why is my own life being kept a secret from me? First Elsa, and now you. No one will tell me anything. It's not fair. I didn't ask for this," Anna lamented. She took a long swig of her ale. She willed herself to maintain her composure but she was finding the task incredibly difficult. Her vision swam and she felt dizzy, despite the fact that she was not standing. She wished more than anything that she could remember him. "Damn it!"

"Anna, we should get you home," Kristoff stood to leave, reaching for her elbow to escort her out. The many drinks and slices of rhubarb pie they'd dined on earlier were already posted to the royal tab. With the bill taken care of, and Anna in no condition to continue imbibing the drink, he saw no reason to stay.

Anna clutched at his sleeve, peering up at him with glassy eyes.

"First, we have to finish our game. Since you lied and did not answer the question, I must give you a dare. And I dare you… to kiss me."


	8. The Garden

Kristoff's heart leapt. With fear or joy, he could not be sure. But her request unnerved him.

"Anna, I don't think–"

"Have we kissed before?" Anna asked, rising from the table, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. Kristoff gulped.

"Anna…"

Her turquoise eyes, half-lidded with drink and lust, burned into his own tawny irises. He felt an ache begin to pulse through his groin. They had kissed before. Many times. More times than he could count, each kiss more exciting and passionate than the last…

But that was long ago. That time between them had been over for some time now, and he wasn't about to start again. He couldn't. He'd ruin her more than he already had.

When Anna's small hand reached up to cup his cheek, he gripped her wrist gently.

"No, Anna."

His voice was stern, but not confident, and his eyes betrayed his true desires as he stared into her gaze.

Anna had to try. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching toward his lips, eagerly awaiting the moment she would touch them with her own.

"Anna…" Kristoff's timbre cracked. He couldn't stop her. He wouldn't stop her. Even in the middle of a dingy, dirty tavern, in full witness of all sort of common folk, he simply did not have the will. He wanted this kiss more than his next breath. He closed his eyes and let it happen.

Suddenly, the crashing of hurled glass against the wall beside them snapped Kristoff from his stupor. Anna had pulled away as well, her mouth dropped into an "O" as they found themselves in the middle of a tavern brawl.

"Shit," Kristoff cursed, grabbing Anna's hand. The bulky bodies of men began to push about them as punches were thrown. The music had stopped and the bar was filled with the sound of angry men shouting amongst the tussle. "We have to get out of here."

"Hey!" Anna shouted to no one in particular, freeing herself from Kristoff's grasp. Before he could stop her, she ran towards the bar.

" _Hey_ ," she shouted again, irritated, but brave with the drink. "You ruffians st-stop it! I am the P-Princess, and I command–"

A right hook to her left cheek knocked her to the floor. Almost immediately, the entire room went silent. Kristoff shoved his way frantically through the crowd.

"Anna!"

He pushed his way to wear she lay on the floor, out cold, an accidental casualty of the testosterone and beer-fueled fight. The men around her looked around at each other in a mixture of shame and fear, wondering who had thrown the punch that had struck Anna, and Kristoff could hear the bartender near the front of the establishment yelling for someone to fetch a constable.

Kristoff was not going to wait around for that to happen. He much liked the idea of his head remaining attached to his shoulders.

Scooping her from the floor as gently as he could, Kristoff carried her through the tavern with his head held high, avoiding eye contact as he made his way outside with the unconscious Princess.

—-

 _Love is an open door…_

 _The memories whirled as if being spun from a spinning wheel with no rhyme or reason for their pattern. She saw the man with the white gloves, a little more clearly this time, swirling her in a dance. He was tall, and lean, but no matter how hard she tried to focus she could not see his face. They were talking to the Queen, her hand in his… white gloves…_

 _Anna felt cold, so cold. Her heart was frozen. The white-gloved man carried her over the threshold, into the castle, placing her on a divan near a raging fireplace, whispering sweet nothings to her. She needed to kiss him, or else…_

 _Another raging fireplace appeared in Anna's mind's eye. The one in the cabin. A body was on top of her. His breath was loud and hot in her ear. Her own breath mixed with his as he moved over her, on top of her, inside of her…_

 _She needed to kiss him, or else…_

 _Suddenly she was on horseback, held fast to his broad chest, racing toward the kingdom._

 _"Just hang in there," he begged, pressing her body to his tightly as they rode. "Come on, buddy, faster!"_

 _She needed to kiss him… she needed…_

—-

Kristoff hadn't said a word when he approached the gate to the castle, carrying a sleeping Anna in his arms. The guards let him in, one of them running off to tell the Queen of the Princess' return, no doubt.

But he could deal with that later. Right now, he had to take care of Anna.

He took her to the garden on the side of the castle, overlooking the sea. The same place where they had rendezvoused many times early on in their… courtship. Back when Elsa had insisted they stick to convention and not see each other unchaperoned before they were wed, before giving up once she realized how inseparable they were.

Kristoff winced at the memory. Of course, it had never come to marriage.

He carried her to the back of the garden, near a patch of high-growing sunflowers and fragrant lavender, and tenderly set her upon a cast iron bench that had once been a favorite spot of theirs. The thought made Kristoff's heart full. Sitting beside her to hold her up, he wanted nothing but a few more moments with her on this beautiful evening, underneath the moon and the stars, surely his last night alive. And he wished more than anything that she would wake up so he could tell her how sorry he was, perhaps giving her that kiss she wanted before finally walking out of her life forever.

Tomorrow, he would be tried for treason, for kidnapping the Princess, and would lose his title as Arendelle's Official Ice Master and Deliverer. Whether or not he would live to see another sunrise was yet to be seen, but knowing the Queen's opinion of him, he didn't dare have high hopes.

Anna stirred beside him, breathing softly with her head on his shoulder.

"Anna?" Kristoff turned to her as she awoke, grasping her upper arms to give her leverage. Even in the moonlight, he noticed the subtle blush that graced her cheeks. She was an angel.

The memories flooded behind Anna's eyes, stinging even as she awoke. She looked into Kristoff's face and nearly wept. The dreams, the memories–

She wanted it so badly to be Kristoff.

"It was you," the Princess said, her voice hoarse with sleep. Kristoff cocked his head at her, puzzled by her statement.

"I'm afraid I don't–"

"Just tell me it was you," Anna breathed again, climbing into Kristoff's lap. "Just tell me it was you who rescued me."

"Anna, I…" Kristoff was at a loss as Anna straddled him, grabbing the collar of his shirt in two tiny fists to give herself leverage. Her balance wavered as she brought her face up to his. The wheat-like scent of ale wafted from her lips. Kristoff's chest began to palpitate and he felt an inspiring in his loins. He damned himself for having such a reaction to her, even after all this time.

"Tell me," she whispered against his cheek.

"I don't… "

"You don't what?" Anna moved her lips to the corner of his mouth, letting her eyelids flutter closed. The iceman could feel her lashes brush his cheek and it was his undoing, the desire that had been pooling in the pit of his abdomen tightening into a hard knot. The wall of ice he had put up over the past year was nothing more than a steaming puddle now.

"I don't want to ruin your life again."

Before Anna could respond, Kristoff squeezed her to him and touched his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. Anna kissed back just as forcefully, snaking her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. She felt a large hand slide down to the small of her back and rest there, pressing her body as close to his as possible. His other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, gently grasping, guiding her movements as the passion between them heightened. She tasted of musky honey and Kristoff knew he would lose himself in her, his most primal instincts taking over, forcing him to give in to his baser urges.

Anna desperately reached for the top of his trousers faster than Kristoff could stop her. She was surprised that her hands knew what to do.

"Have we done this before?" Anna gasped. Kristoff only grunted in response, grinding his arousal upward as he planted kisses down her neck and along her ear. The princess' breath hitched at the feeling of his hardness poking her bottom. Molten nectar began to pool in her womb.

She couldn't take it. "Kristoff…"

Gripping her waist with his large hands, the mountain man lifted her petite frame as easily as one would lift a small child, placing her on the bench. In a flash he was on his knees on the earth before her, tall enough still that his face was at level with her chest. His hands gripped the bottom of her skirts, bunching them up about her thighs, revealing her undergarments to him. Her heady scent wafted to his nose and he feared he may go mad if he didn't taste her right then and there.

He wanted so badly to ease her pain. To give her pleasure.

To love her again.

Kristoff reached up and massaged her breasts through her bodice.

The ministrations of his hands felt divine. Absolutely heavenly. Anna squirmed under his touch. A series of soft moans escaped her throat. "Oh, that's nice…"

He hastily untied her vest and went to work on her blouse, his thick, clumsy fingers struggling to push the tiny buttons through the holes. At long last he freed her breasts, and couldn't stifle the sound of his pleasure at seeing them. Anna's breathing became raspy as the cool night air hit her bare chest. Two perfect, porcelain orbs illuminated in the silver glow of moonlight, dotted with cherry-colored areolas, her nipples peaked from pleasure. Kristoff clamped his mouth down over one, suckling, while he worked the other bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Her skin alighted wherever his lips and tongue and fingers touched, turning the blood that ran through her flesh to fire.

"Kristoff," Anna breathed, gripping his hair. "Oh, Kristoff. I love you."

She didn't know where the words came from. Maybe it was the ale. But they felt right. Saying those three words felt natural, flowing from between her lips with such an ease that she had no doubt they were true. She loved him. She truly did. Even when her mind did not remember him, her heart and body did.

In her hazy state, it took Anna a few moments to realize that Kristoff had stopped.

"Kristoff?"

He looked up at her guiltily, and Anna could swear his eyes were welling with moisture.

"Forgive me, Anna." His voice was misty.

Abruptly, Kristoff stood and dusted himself off. Although his erection was still evident through his trousers, he seemed to have no intention of finishing what they had started. Anna felt a course of shame run through her body, and she covered her breasts with her arms. She suddenly felt very exposed, and very cold in the night air.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, An- my Princess. We can't… we shouldn't… this is a mistake. You're drunk. You're not thinking straight. It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage… We can't do this again."

With a whimper, Anna quickly began to dress herself, shoving her breasts back into her corset and fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. How stupid could she be? He didn't want her. His words pierced her heart and caused her to sober up quickly. When she rose to leave, Kristoff didn't say anything. He didn't even look at her. Her heart threatened to shatter into a million pieces right in front of him.

"Goodnight, Ice Master," Anna sniffed, trying to sound stronger than she was, before disappearing into the castle. Kristoff clenched his fists with regret. He cursed himself for not being made of tougher things. He couldn't stand the sight of her so unhappy, so rejected.

"Anna, wait," he pleaded, following after her in haste. She was already at the apex of the grand staircase by the time he reached the foyer. He was too late. The damage was done. Kristoff raked a hand through his disheveled hair and steeled his will to not cry in the middle of the royal palace in the middle of the night. The self-pity would have to wait for when he arrived home.

As he turned to leave, however, he found himself frozen to the spot– quite literally– as he came face-to-face with the Ice Queen, her eyes ablaze with anger.


	9. The Ice Queen

"How _dare_ you," Elsa seethed, her hands sparkling with magic.

"Elsa, I–"

"You forget your place!"

Kristoff bowed, bending at the waist as deeply as he could. He felt the icy shackles snaking up his legs pulse with her anger. If this was how he died, so be it. At least he got to be with Anna, had kissed her one last time. He could die happy. Knowing that he wouldn't be around to ruin her life anymore was a small comfort.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't blast you from here to the North Mountain," she seethed, tightening her grip.

"Elsa, I'm sorry. I should have brought her straight back here. It was poor judgement on my part," Kristoff said, his feet still frozen to the floor. He was silently thankful that he was wearing his snow boots.

The Queen lowered her hands, but the magic continued to crackle and spark.

"You mean, you didn't take her from the castle?"

Kristoff straightened and shook his head. "No, Els- my Queen. She sought me out."

Elsa's expression softened. After a tense moment, she sighed and released the iceman from her hold, the crystals dispersing and disappearing into the air almost immediately.

"Forgive me, Kristoff. I was just so fraught with worry… I thought something might have happened to her again. I am grateful that she has at least been with you all day, of all people." The Ice Queen allowed a light smile to grace her thin lips.

Kristoff exhaled the breath he had been holding. He itched to wipe the perspiration that had formed on his brow, but dared not move a muscle. Elsa had begun to wring her hands, a nervous habit he had never seen her without, even though it wasn't very proper– signaling to Kristoff that he wasn't out of the clear yet.

"How– how is she?" Elsa asked.

Kristoff sighed. "Anna… she's…"

He gave up and sighed again.

"Here," Elsa said, gesturing for him to follow her into a room off the main parlor. It seemed to be a study of sorts. The Queen walked around to the opposite side of a large mahogany desk, still wringing her hands. A stack of what appeared to be medical texts sat on one corner, with one leather-bound volume flipped open to an unspecific page, as though somebody had been perusing the print earlier, searching for an answer to an unknown question.

Elsa pointed for Kristoff to sit, but when he politely declined with a shake of his head, the Ice Queen took her own seat behind the desk. She inhaled a shaky breath, bracing herself for the conversation she was about to have with the mountain man. Their first personal interaction in nearly a year.

"Does she remember?"

He knew what she was really asking: _Does she remember you?_

Kristoff carefully shook his head.

"Not enough to hurt her," he near-whispered.

The Ice Queen brushed a stray lock of silver hair out of her face, her hand visibly trembling. She was never good at handling confrontation, whether on the giving or receiving end.

"So she does remember you? At least somewhat?"

Arendelle's Official Ice Master and Deliverer began to pace the small room. He'd almost rather be dead than have this conversation with his ex-lover's older sister, who just so happened to be the Queen with a penchant for mystical powers…

"She remembers the night I found her."

A gasp escaped Elsa's lips before she could stop it.

"Well, not completely," Kristoff continued. "She remembers pieces. She said her memories come and go in fragments. I'm not really sure if she absolutely knows it was me who… you know."

He had found her close to death. He had taken her back to his cabin, stripped her down, held her against him, saved her from hypothermia. He had raced her back to the palace on Sven's back, crying and pleading with her the entire way.

The Queen straightened up in her seat, folding her hands on the desktop in a formal manner, foreshadowing the seriousness of the words she was about to utter.

"What I'm about to tell you is only because I trust you, and despite everything you've put her through–" she shot him a chagrined look, "I know you only have Anna's best interests at heart," Elsa gently took one of Kristoff's large hands in her two smaller ones.

"Anna's condition… is a result of poison."

Kristoff's heart fell like a rock to the bottom of his gut.

"But not just any poison," Elsa steeled herself, looking into Kristoff's eyes. "A magical poison."

Somebody had poisoned Anna? His Anna?

 _She's not your Anna anymore._

"How… " Elsa held up a hand to stop Kristoff's words, insinuating that he needn't say anything.

"It's my fault," Elsa lamented. Her hands trembled atop his fingers as she fought the urge to hold her face in her hands. "I wasn't there to protect her. I can't do anything for her, and neither can the doctor… but you can."

The ice man watched her with such an intensity Elsa had seen in his eyes only once before.

"I need to ask something of you. I need you to take Anna to see your family."

The trolls. She meant for Anna to see the trolls. Perhaps believing Grand Pabbie may have a cure for the poison, or the wisdom needed to help Anna get her memories back.

"Why me?" Kristoff's face was solemn. Elsa exhaled a heavy breath.

"I wish more than anything that I could take her myself. I can hardly bear the thought of letting her out of my sight again. But with the royal detectives investigating the possibility of foul play, and with the perpetrator still at large, I need to remain here so that nothing seems amiss, as well as to oversee the official investigation. I want answers… and justice… as much as I'm sure you do."

Kristoff silently nodded in agreement before removing his clammy hand from Elsa's grasp. "Of course, Your Majesty. I'll take her first thing tomorrow. As you know, it's at least a day's trip to the Valley of the Living Rock, weather permitting. The earlier we can leave the better."

Elsa stood, signaling the near-end of their conversation, overlapping her hands over the bodice of her dress in a formal gesture.

"You are not to tell her anything we've discussed here. And Kristoff?" Elsa stared him down from behind her pale lashes, face grim. "She loved you, you know." It was both a statement and a warning.

"I know," Kristoff mumbled somberly before turning and leaving the room.


	10. Morning After

Anna only slept for a few hours that night, thanks to the alcohol, and when she awoke while the sky was still dark the princess bolted out of bed to empty the contents of her stomach in her bath chamber.

When at last her heaving had subsided, Anna crawled back under the plush duvet, seeking unconsciousness as an escape from the pain. Her head pounded and her belly churned, not at all pleased with her behavior the previous evening.

But sleep evaded Anna.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but judging by the early morning sun that had begun to filter in through the window, she had been laying there for hours, unable to fall back asleep.

At last, she gave up, and rose to groggily greet the day. She dressed herself in her day clothes and tied her hair back in a clumsy chignon before trudging downstairs, trying her best to forget the throbbing behind her eyes and push all thoughts of Kristoff to the back of her mind, burying them deep.

When the thought of food made Anna's throat lurch, she found herself passing the dining hall to wander over to the gallery, her psyche numb from the events of the previous day and looking for a distraction.

Anna found the gallery devoid of life and welcomed the peace. The impressive royal collection of artwork spanned the length of the room, the dark green walls adorned with dozens of paintings by the likes of Fragonard, Serrure, and Bruegel the Elder, all hung with meticulous care. Save for a settee or two, the room was unfurnished, leaving little to distract the eye from the visages of lovelorn young gentlemen and blushing girls laid down in oils. One painting in particular caught the princess' eye, and she sauntered over to it to inspect it more closely, the echoing of her heels clicking on the marble floor the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

On the great canvas that hung before Anna was an image of a young lady, dressed in finery, being courted by a nobleman, who took her dainty hand in his. The nobleman's hair was slicked back and on his face was a wry smile; over his waistcoat and sash he wore a fitted jacket, which was decorated with golden ornamental shoulder pieces and colorful military brooches, as well as matching trousers, white stockings, and shiny heeled shoes. On his hands were clean white gloves.

White gloves.

Anna audibly gasped as a sudden vision flashed across her mind's eye: it was the same man with white gloves she had seen before, but this time, she could see him as clear as day. He was twirling her about the floor, his arms encircling her in a dance. As she focused on the memory, she could just make out the color of his hair, the shape of his ears, the length of his neck. Most importantly, she could see his face.

Anna hurriedly passed through the door at the far end of the gallery to the studio and took a seat at the easel, eager to get the vision down before it slipped away.

"Okay, I've done this before," she murmured to herself, deciding on which brush to pick up first. Arbitrarily, she plucked one from the bunch, and then began mixing oils on her palette.

"Like riding a bike..." the princess mused as a fleshy apricot tone began to form on the wood. Muscle memory took over from there. Taking a healthy glob of the color on the tip of her brush, she swished it across and began to cover the canvas, spreading the color with languid strokes, keeping her wrist flexed and grip light. She worked quickly, mixing colors as she went, putting down as much of the substance as she could while simultaneously centering her consciousness on the man's smiling face at the front of her mind, to keep the memory from fading, despite the occasional unwelcome intrusion of the smiling face of a certain fair-haired mountain man.

Apricot flesh, fire burnt hair, peridot green eyes–

"Who's that?" came an abrupt voice from behind her, causing Anna to whip around in her chair in fright.

There stood the living snowman, Olaf, staring at the painting-in-progress with unblinking black eyes.

"Oh, Olaf," Anna breathed with relief. "It's only you. Jeez, you startled me. I didn't realize I was so in the zone."

"Who's that?" Olaf repeated again, this time pointing to the canvas behind the princess with his stick finger.

Anna exhaled loudly and pursed her lips, shrugging. "I don't know."

Exasperated by the deeper meaning behind those three simple words, Anna smeared a flat palm over her scalp, smoothing her hair down in frustration. As if fixing her hair might help her memories come back. Sensing her discomfort, the snowman took a step back, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs in front of him and rocking back and forth on his feet.

"So… you still don't remember anything, huh?"

"Yeah."

"That's too bad," Olaf drawled sadly, shaking his head. "You know, I don't remember anything about where I came from, either."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Elsa create you?"

"She sure did, but I don't remember my life before that."

 _That's because you didn't have a life before that,_ Anna thought to herself, amused by his naivety. But she said nothing.

"I don't mind, though. All of my memories of my new life begin and end with you and Elsa," the snowman continued matter-of-factly, his beady eyes taking on a dreamy look, clasping his hands together over Anna's knee. "As long as I have the ones I love by my side, I'm okay with not remembering the other unimportant stuff. I can always make new memories, but my family is irreplaceable."

Anna couldn't help but crack a smile at his words, surprised by their depth, and gently placed her own hand atop his.

"You're right, Olaf. Thank you."

A young guard named Lars suddenly appeared in the doorway, and politely but loudly cleared his throat to get the princess' attention. He had brunette hair and deep chestnut eyes, and wasn't much older than Anna herself. She had met him one night at dinner when he had interrupted to deliver an important message to Elsa. Something about reopening trade negotiations with Weaseltown.

"Your Highness, your sister the Queen requires your presence."

Anna nodded her acquiescence, giving Olaf a parting hug before rising and leaving with Lars. Olaf stayed behind and gazed at the nearly completed portrait for a time afterward, but when nothing happened his attention span maxed out, and he simply shrugged and waddled out of the studio to seek out something fun somewhere else.

Lars escorted Anna to her sister's royal chambers, bowing and departing without another word. Anna entered the parlor tentatively without knocking, cautiously pushing the heavy oak door open with a long creak. The Queen sat behind her desk, eyes turned downward, focusing on making marks on an imperial document, her ink pen scratching the surface with a quiet _skrit skrit skrit skrit_. Behind the desk hung a larger-than-life portrait of their parents, the former monarchs, smiling down on their eldest daughter as she worked.

"You wanted to see me?" Anna asked, stupidly, not sure of what else to say.

Elsa laid the writing instrument upon the desk and looked up, beaming at her younger sister. "Yes. Please, Anna, have a seat."

Unnerved by the unknown, Anna took the seat being offered to her, the wave of nausea in her abdomen threatening to make a reappearance. Did Elsa know about what she had gotten up to the day before? Did she know about Kristoff? Was she in trouble?

"Didn't see you at breakfast," Elsa said, her tone light. She stacked the parchments she had been working on in a haphazard pile and set them to the side.

"Wasn't hungry," the orange-haired young woman mumbled in response.

Elsa's smile waned, her expression becoming quite somber. Reaching across, the Queen took her sister's hands in her own, leaning in closer. "I know… I _know_ this has been rough. But we love you– _I_ love you. And I only want what's best for you. You know that, right?"

Swallowing thickly, Anna nodded, inwardly urging her stomach to settle. Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line before speaking again.

"And that's why you are leaving. Today."


	11. A New Journey

The sky outside was a beautiful hue of indigo, but the bright sunlight betrayed the harsh nip in the air and the dark clouds making their way in from the west.

Arendelle's Official Ice Master and Deliverer paced nervously through the courtyard, just outside the castle doors, back and forth, back and forth, as his loyal pet reindeer watched on, cocking his fuzzy head in curiosity. Kristoff ran a gloved hand roughshod through his golden locks and audibly groaned when he realized how rapidly his heart was beating.

"Get it together, man," he chided himself. He cupped both of his hands together and brought them to his mouth, blowing into them to try to ease his anxiety. Needless to say, the mountain man was less than thrilled to be stuck spending the next few days with the woman he had taken advantage of and then subsequently scorned only just the previous day.

But then again, like always, there was still the little voice in his heart that was secretly elated.

The palace doors opened and out stepped Princess Anna, blinking in the harsh light of day, donned in her raspberry sorbet-colored winter cape and bonnet and carrying a satchel. She was escorted by Elsa and the young guard, Lars, who had become somewhat of a personal bodyguard to the royal sisters as of late– at Elsa's behest, of course.

The Queen hugged her younger sister and bid her farewell, waiting until Anna had her back turned to shoot the ice man a stern look of warning before turning back into the castle, Lars following closely behind her. Kristoff gulped.

Anna approached Kristoff's sleigh, seemingly without any of the anger or trepidation that Kristoff had been expecting, and threw her bag into the back with a heavy _thud_ , seating herself on the bench without looking at him, completely oblivious to the history of the sled in which she sat: unaware of the princess-led adventure more than a year earlier that had resulted in the demise of his previous vehicle; ignorant of the fact that she had been the one who had bought this shiny new one for him; no memory of the many times they had fooled around in the backseat. When he at last realized that the retaliation for his behavior the previous night was not forthcoming after all, Kristoff wordlessly strapped Sven into his harness, hooked up the beast to the sleigh, climbed in beside Anna, and took the reins in hand, jaunting them with a flick of his wrists to signal for the reindeer to start off.

–

The guard standing watch at the gate yawned, stretching his jaw as far as it could go, stroking his bushy beard as he did so. The sun had only just set, casting a hazy red glow on the horizon beyond the palace walls. Supper would be served soon. Impending footsteps announced the arrival of a visitor.

"Another night burning the midnight oil, Hansel?"

The man mentioned by name whipped around to see another guard approaching, and visibly relaxed.

"Christ, Lars, you gotta stop sneaking up on me like that," Hansel mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Lars clapped a friendly hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Go home to your wife. I'm sure Adel and the new baby would love to see you. I'll take your post."

Too tired to argue, Hansel accepted the gesture gratefully, passing his spear to the young guard and leaving with a nod of thanks. Lars watched him go, and when he was out of sight, turned towards the gate to find himself face to face with a pair of burly men.

"Evening, gentlemen," Lars proclaimed, straightening up where he stood, tapping the bottom of his spear pole on the cobblestone. "The palace is closed to civilians for the night. No one is supposed to be in the courtyard."

It dawned on him that the presence of anybody within the palace walls at this hour was quite unusual. The gate had been locked for some time already. He scanned them up and down.

The two men were almost identical in stature and appearance, the similarity visible even in the dark, save for a few minute differences like clothing and number of functioning eyes.

"Might want ta do a better job of lockin' up, then," one of them piped up, tossing the broken gate lock to the ground with a _clank_ of metal. When Lars looked down at the padlock and pile of chains at his feet, he could tell that the solid cast iron had been torn apart _by hand_. He gulped loudly.

"Why are you here?" the guard demanded, trying his best to sound confident and authoritative. The wobble of his knees easily made his growing fear obvious to the intruders.

"Ya hear that, Cornelius?" the man on the left elbowed the one-eyed man on his right, chuckling. "He wants ta know why we're 'ere."

"Well, Bastian, maybe we should tell 'im."

The man called Bastian grinned a wicked grin, turning his attention back on the trembling guard before them. "We've come ta pay a visit to Her Royal Highness."

Lars jumped into a defensive stance, jabbing his royal-issued spearpoint towards the men.

"If you've come for the Queen, then you'll have to slay me first!"

"We didn't come for the Queen, boy," the one with the eye patch, Cornelius, spat. He pushed the spear aside casually, as if it were no more threatening than a measly twig. "We came fer the young one."

The guard's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "P-Princess Anna?"

"That's the one."

"S-she's gone!" Lars sputtered. "Left this morning. She's not here."

Growing impatient, Bastian grabbed the smaller man by the scruff of his uniform, lifting him up and off of the ground until he was at eye level. "Well then, where 'as the princess gone?"

"I'll never tell!" Lars squeaked, kicking his legs in the air helplessly.

Rolling his eyes towards his brother to make a show of his annoyance, Bastian reached into his back pocket with the hand that wasn't holding Lars and pulled out a knife, pressing the point of the blade to the guard's nose, making a dent in the tender skin there. Cornelius watched on and only smirked.

"Now, I'm goin' ta ask ya again," Bastian growled in a low timbre, pushing the knife with enough force to break skin. A river of blood trailed down Lars' lips and he whimpered.

"Where has she gone?"


	12. Oaken

The frigid air gradually grew even colder as day transformed into night, the sun beginning its descent behind the mountains to make itself scarce for the evening. Neither Kristoff nor Anna had spoken a single word during their trip up the mountain. Even Sven was uncharacteristically quiet, obediently pulling the sleigh and its passengers along at a trotting pace. The sky darkened around them, the only light being the yellow glow of the sled's lantern, the only sound being the sloughing of reindeer hooves through the crisp, white snow.

"How're you feeling today?" Kristoff asked at last, eager to break the silence that had lasted between them for hours. When Anna only shrugged in response, too engrossed in watching the landscape as it passed, the mountain man pressed further.

"Was Elsa mad?"

"Why would she be?" the princess replied evenly. She still faced away from him, arms crossed, trying her best to be appear wholly nonchalant and unfazed by the fact that she had to go on this journey, alone with the man she had mixed, confusing feelings for.

Kristoff sighed. "Look, I didn't mean for last night to happen the way it did."

"Sure."

"We both had a lot to drink, and–"

"Yup."

"–things got heated, and–

"Uh-huh."

"–out of hand quickly, and–"

" _Please_ just stop talking, Kristoff. You're going to make this trip way more miserable than it needs to be."

The ice man yanked upward on the reins suddenly, causing Sven to skid to a jolty halt. Anna shrieked as she was thrown forward, bracing herself against the frame of the sleigh. Kristoff turned in his seat to face her.

"I'm sorry, Anna. Okay? _I'm sorry_. I really, _really_ am." His tone was pleading, dripping with frustration. It surprised the princess to see him so frazzled by her. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you. That's the _last_ thing I _ever_ wanted to happen. I just– I care for you, Anna. A lot. I don't want to ruin things, or mess this up ag–"

He caught himself before he almost let the word "again" slip, and Anna eyed him quizzically. Kristoff rubbed his face with both gloved hands. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Can we just… start over?"

Oh, the irony of those words. How many chances did he need to get things right?

How many chances would he get?

Anna took a pause, her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits, mulling his plea over in her head. She didn't want to be in this situation just as much as he didn't. It was awkward, and tense, not to mention emotionally _exhausting_ , and Anna still had a nagging feeling that there was _something_ between them, or that something had happened between them in the past, and she was as determined as ever to find out what that something was.

After a minute of thinking, the princess projected her open palm outward and sideways.

"Hello, my name is Anna," she said, almost playfully, allowing a small smirk to grace her lips. It must've been the most beautiful smile the mountain man had ever seen. Grinning himself, he took her hand in his own and shook it gently.

"My name is Kristoff. Nice to meet you."

–

It was nearly an hour after sunset when they pulled up to the trading post to recoup supplies for the night. The tiny brass bell above the door _tinkled_ their arrival when the pair walked in, with Kristoff following behind his princess. A jolly, red-faced man in a patterned jumper and matching woollen cap sat behind the counter, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement at the arrival of the visitors.

"Yoo-hoo," he chortled, wiggling his fingers in greeting. Before he could utter another word, however, recognition dawned on the man's round face at seeing his favorite member of the royal family inside of his humble little shop.

" _An-na!_ " he cried out in a singsong voice, sidestepping the counter in order to rush over to the aforementioned woman, crushing her in a bear hug before she could protest. Pointing a single finger, she tapped his back with what little arm movement she could muster in his vice-like embrace.

"Um, excuse me, sir…"

The man unwrapped himself from around her and stepped back from the princess, noticing for the first time that Kristoff was standing behind her. His eyes grew dark.

" _You,_ " he growled in the direction of the mountain man. Anna looked back at Kristoff, then back to the larger man, and then back again.

Kristoff smirked and waved, exuding a cocky air. "Hey Oaken, what's happenin'?"

The man called Oaken carefully pushed Anna aside with a large hand, approaching Kristoff with his shoulders squared. He loomed over the ice man easily, the sparkle in his eyes now replaced with something a bit more sinister. Kristoff hadn't prepared for this. In fact, he hadn't even thought of it. His confidence waned.

"I mean– it's _so good_ to see you! You look _fantastic_. Have you lost weight? I know I still owe you for those carrots. I _promise_ I'll pay once I get my next ice shipment in."

"Why is the princess here with the likes of _yoo?_ " Oaken boomed, staring the smaller man down. The venom in his voice was practically betrayed by the goofy inflection he emphasized on the final syllable.

Kristoff raised both hands, palms up, in surrender. "Whoa, buddy. We're just here on business, nothing more. A favor to the Queen. She asked me herself."

" _Yoo_ hurt her," Oaken continued, ignoring whatever it was Kristoff had said. "I will hurt _yoo_."

The heavyset man threateningly cracked his knuckles and advanced on Kristoff.

"Hey– Oaken, was it?" Anna interrupted, putting herself between the two men, her arms spread wide on either side for defense. "Why don't we all just take a minute and think about this? Now, I'm not sure who he hurt or what happened, but I need him in one piece to take me to see the Trolls so that I can get my memory back. So, if you could just, like, save the beating for another day, I'd _really_ appreciate it."

At her penultimate sentence, Oaken blinked, his normal persona emerging from his aggressive stupor. Where his eyebrows had just been furrowed in unbridled animosity, they were now arched in tempered curiosity.

"Yoo've lost your memory, dear?" Oaken asked, his voice returning to its usual friendly tone.

Anna nodded. "Yes, and Kristoff _is_ telling the truth. My sis– err, the Queen– truly did ask him to bring me out here."

Oaken scrunched his mouth, pensive for a moment. "So, yoo don't remember _him?_ "

Anna shook her head.

"Yoo don't remember… me?" Oaken's lower lip trembled.

Anna again shook her head, sadly.

"No. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"But yoo don't remember… _him?_ " The hefty man pointed directly at Kristoff this time, who was trying his best to signal with his eyes that Oaken should _stop talking._ _Now._

But Oaken was too clever for that. He narrowed his eyes.

"Anna, dear, please take some time in the sauna. It is _good_ for _yoo!_ Mind, body, and spirit." He patted the red-haired princess on the head like one might a child and began to steer her towards the back of the store. "Maybe help with your memory, yes?"

"Ooh, a sauna?" Anna mused aloud, her interest piqued.

Kristoff tried to stop her, desperate to not be left alone with the hostile man, but was easily brushed aside by both Oaken and Anna on her way to the sauna door.

–

The time Anna spent in the sauna felt like an eternity to Kristoff, who passed the time sitting in fear on a stool near the front door while Oaken glared holes into the back of his head.

"I, uh, like what you've done with the place." Kristoff offered. The angry man only continued to stare menacingly.

The tension in the air was palpable. To ease his anxiety, Kristoff tried drumming his hands on his knees, but when he felt the unspoken friction between the two men reach an uncomfortable boiling point he stood and moved for the door.

"I better go check on Sven," he explained, fixing his dark hat to his head, opening the door to the chilly night air. In a flash, Oaken was up on his rather big feet, slamming the door back closed with Kristoff's hand still on the knob.

"I don't know vhat yoo think yoo're doing," Oaken strained. Evidently using all of his restraint to not pummel the smaller man to a bloody pulp. "But if yoo do _anything_ to the princess, I _will_ kill yoo myself, ja?"

Kristoff gulped. " _Ja_ , I don't doubt you will."

Oaken's eyes took on a sorrowful look. He touched his fingertips together, tenting his hands.

"That girl loved _yoo_ , and _yoo_ broke her heart. I have never seen a person so broken, ja? When she came in here crying about vhat yoo did to her–"

Kristoff snapped his head towards Oaken.

"Wait, wait, _wait_. What do you mean she came in here?"

"Ja, last week. The princess came in here. She was not herself, speaking gibberish–" he paused, pointing towards a shelf on the far end of the wall. "She picked up some snow boots and began wailing, talking about how much she loved _yoo_."

"Oaken. We broke off our engagement _last year_. She's been at the palace ever since. She wouldn't have been here last week."

The bulging man's eyes went cold. "Are yoo calling me a liar?"

Kristoff shook his head. "No, no. Of course not."

He thought for a moment. "Unless…"

Unless it had something to do with her disappearance and subsequent poisoning.

The blonde-haired man jumped up from his seat, grabbing Oaken by the shoulders. "Was there anyone with her?"

" _Noo_ , the princess vas all by herself. I tried to get her to stay here, but she started screaming and ran out of the door."

"Did you have any… _strange_ customers last week or the week before?" Kristoff urged, desperate for answers. "Anybody who seemed odd or suspicious or out of place?"

Oaken thought for a moment. "Ja, there was a couple gentlemen who came in together from out of town. Tourists."

"Tourists? In the middle-of-nowhere mountains in late autumn? Come on, Oaken. Seriously." Kristoff rolled his eyes. "She was only behaving that way because she was poisoned. I need to know who those men were because they might have had something to do with–"

"Who's been poisoned?" came a concerned voice. Both men looked up to see Anna, standing just outside the sauna door with a linen towel wrapped around her torso.

Oaken opened his mouth to answer but Kristoff stood quickly to intercept him, struggling to speak as he took in the sight of Anna in the nude, her freckled skin lush and pink from the effects of the steam. Her lips were wet and full, and her damp hair stuck to her forehead; she looked thoroughly sexed up, and it made the mountain man's cock twitch in his trousers.

"No one, Anna," Kristoff lied, swallowing. "Get your things and we'll go."

With trepidation, Anna nodded and disappeared from view. Kristoff let out the anxious breath of air that he'd been holding, trying to clear the incredibly arousing image of of the princess from his mind, but he couldn't help but focus on one detail that Oaken had told him: that even in her delirious, feverish, poisoned state-of-mind, Anna still loved him.


	13. Valley of the Living Rock

Oaken had hugged Anna one last time before she left, squeezing her so tightly she felt as though she might snap in half as easily a twig underfoot. He happily wished her luck, and had gifted her a jar of brined fish heads for her health, but the young woman was affected by the abject sadness she noticed in his smile as she left with Kristoff. Her companion was more than eager to leave before the red-faced brute could make good on his promise to settle their score, and so Anna didn't get to ask any of the questions nagging at the forefront of her mind.

She sat in puzzled silence now as the sled approached a valley, absentmindedly watching the fish beads bob around in their jar on her lap, swishing and sloshing around in a grotesquely fascinating manner. She half-listened as Kristoff went on and on about the Trolls, but found her mind wandering to thoughts of him and the passionate moment they had shared only just the night before, as well as wondering what he and Oaken could have possibly been talking about back at the trading post.

How she wished she could simply _remember_. Maybe the Trolls really could help; the princess was willing to try anything at this point.

The sleigh slid to a careful stop when they reached the bottom of the valley. Kristoff disembarked first, then helped Anna down; once standing, she stole a moment to take in her surroundings. The sky was dark, but the earth around them had a subtle, mystical glow, allowing Anna to see the moss-covered boulders surrounding them. A few craters in the ground spewed steam up and out, making the air in the valley rather warm and humid. The scent of damp earth filled Anna's nostrils. It was a beautiful place, in a peaceful, fairy-magic sort of way.

A familiar tune swam through the back of Anna's subconscious mind as she scanned the scenery, but when she tried to listen, it had gone just as quickly as it came. The fleeting sensation caused her head to throb with a dull ache.

Kristoff walked forward, deeper into the valley, and Anna cautiously followed after him.

"Hey, everyone," the mountain man called out, waving to a pile of rocks in the center of the valley. Anna could easily detect the hint of nervousness in his voice and it sent an uncomfortable series of tingles up her spine. Kristoff had already spent some time forewarning her, explaining that the Trolls were his family and that they could be rather brash at times, but they meant well.

 _I can see where he gets it from_ , Anna had inwardly mused.

At first, nothing happened. Then suddenly the earth began to rumble, and the rocks surrounding them began to vibrate and roll, popping open, one by one, to reveal the Trolls. Despite being given enough warning, seeing such magical creatures with her own eyes still filled Anna with bewilderment.

"Kristoff!" a womanly voice sang out, the lively, seemingly feminine rock rolling forward to give the human man a hug. Kristoff laughed awkwardly; she barely reached his kneecaps.

"Hi, Mom."

Another rock rolled up alongside the first, pulling her back. "Jeez, Bulda, give the kid a minute to breathe."

The Troll named Bulda huffed. "Don't patronize me, Cliff."

Cliff jumped up and slapped a heavy hand on Kristoff's back, causing the burly iceman to lurch forward from the heft of it.

"Always good to see you, son."

Kristoff cracked his neck and rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder. "Yeah, always good to see you too, Pops. Sorry it's been a minute."

"Anna's back," a small, squeaky voice suddenly whispered from somewhere within the cluster.

Immediately, every rocky face snapped towards the princess standing a few meters behind Kristoff. Dozens of shocked, stony faces all looking at Anna. Even Bulda stared with an expression of utter disbelief plastered across her features.

"Well, maybe not _always_ good," Cliff recanted.

Bulda reached up and grabbed her adoptive son by the ear, yanking him down to her height to hiss in his ear. " _What is she doing here?_ "

Kristoff winced. "She needs Grand Pabbie's help. There's nothing funny going on I– _ow!_ I swear!"

"Is the engagement back on, then?" Bulda asked, hushed but hopeful, her gaze flickering to the princess. Kristoff shook his head weakly.

Bulda's eyes narrowed to slits. "You know I love you, Kristoff. But after what you did to that poor, sweet girl…"

"I know, _I know_. I'm just trying to help. I need to speak to Grand Pabbie."

At the mention of his name, Grand Pabbie pushed forward through the murmuring crowd, leaning on his cane.

"There is strange magic at work here," the elder troll mumbled to himself, his voice gruff, then sniffed the air. "Poison?"

Kristoff nodded his head in confirmation and Anna looked at him with wide eyes.

"I've been poisoned?" she asked incredulously; her gut clenched at the revelation. "Is that what you and Oaken were talking about?"

"Yes." The blonde man sounded regretful and he wrung his cap between his hands, unable to look at her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Elsa didn't want you to know. She didn't think you could handle it in your state."

Anna _harrumphed_ and crossed her arms. "I'm glad you all have such faith in me."

"Come, child," Grand Pabbie commanded gently, gesturing for Anna to come forward with his open palm. She did as she was beckoned, kneeling in the grass before the elder to be at a better height for his vantage. Her heart pounded against her ribcage like a trapped bird. First, it was a talking snowman– and now the rocks, too?

What was next? Singing trees?

Kristoff also knelt beside the rock creature. "The poison caused her to forget everything that happened prior to finding her. Can you restore her memories?"

Grand Pabbie shook his head sadly.

"The poison may have blocked her memories initially, but it is nearly out of her system now. What we see here is an affliction of the heart, not the mind," he explained, patting Anna's hand. "The head can be persuaded, but the heart is not so easily changed. Your heart is in a state of torturous indecision. Only once your heart knows what it wants will it be willing to once again remember."

"What do you mean?" Anna pleaded. Inadvertently, she touched her mitten-covered fingers to her heart, as though to check that it was still there.

"Your heart is refusing to remember your previous life. It has been through... such great pain," Pabbie spoke in a grandfatherly tone, turning to face his adoptive grandson. He sighed and took Anna's hand, placing it in Kristoff's, and gave them each a meaningful look. "Kristoff... may be able to explain further."

Kristoff knew his grandfather well enough to understand what he was trying to get him to do: Kristoff needed to explain everything to Anna. The good, and the bad– mostly the bad– to reverse the effects of the poison.

"Grand Pabbie, isn't there _anything_ you can do?" Kristoff pressed desperately. Pabbie's face softened, and he shot Anna a sorrowful look, but said nothing further. The troll only turned his back and waddled away, the silent family watching him leave with sad eyes.

There was no other way. He would have to tell her the story of how he met the princess of Arendelle, fell in love with her, ruined her, asked her to marry him, and then ultimately left her at the altar.

Kristoff looked down at her small gloved hand enveloped in his own and felt the painful hole in his chest stretch a little wider.

He would have to break Anna's heart again.

–

A frantic series of knocks at her chamber door roused Elsa from her slumber.

Dressed in nothing but a white silk nightgown, the Queen tiptoed barefoot to the door as she rubbed her eyes, wondering who would disturb her at such a late hour– and for what reason?

Elsa pulled the heavy oak open a crack to see her young guard, Lars, standing out in the hallway, sweating profusely and struggling to catch his breath. An open wound leaked from the top of his head, and the blood mingled in with his chestnut-colored hair, matting it to his forehead. A fresh, red cut split directly across the bridge of his nose; it was apparent that he had recently lost a fight.

"Your Grace," he managed to pitch between breaths. "I'm so sorry."

He keeled over, supporting himself with his hands on his knees. Opening the door wider, Elsa fiddled nervously with her braid. She didn't like the look of this one bit. "Sorry for what? Are you alright? Lars, what is going on?"

He looked up at her, and Elsa could see the regret in his brown eyes.

"It's the Princess."

Elsa clasped a hand to her mouth. "What happened? Is she alright?"

"I'm afraid she may be in grave danger." Lars' bloodied face crumpled. "Oh, my God, it's all my fault!"

Before the man could burst into hysterics, Elsa reached for the young man's shoulders and gripped them gently but firmly.

"Lars, you have to tell me what's going on," she commanded. The tone in her voice was urgent and laced with fright. "Why is Anna in danger?"

"Two men," Lars started, straightening up. "Two men breached the gate after dark. They demanded to know where the Princess was. I tried to call for help but I was no match for them."

"What did you tell them? What did they say? Why did they want to know about Anna?"

Then a voice that was neither Elsa nor Lars: "Maybe it has something to do with Hans."

Both Queen and guard turned to look at the unexpected arrival of Olaf in the dark hallway.

"Hans?" Icy tendrils gripped Elsa's throat. "Olaf, why do you say that?"

He stopped waddling abruptly and rocked back and forth on his clumpy feet, holding his hands behind his back. "Well, she _was_ painting that portrait of him in the studio the other day…"

"Olaf!" Elsa admonished, releasing Lars' shoulders. "Why didn't you say anything?"

The snowman pressed his mouth into a flat line. "Hm, you know what, I didn't really think of it until now. I guess it slipped my mind."

He tapped his head comically and started to giggle, but stopped when he realized the fear in Elsa's eyes.

"Oh, this is really serious, huh?"

The Queen's petite body began to shake. "If she was painting Hans, then that could mean... but they said there was no way he could have left the islands… oh, _God_."

Elsa threw her hands to her face, holding her cheeks. Was Hans in Arendelle? Had Anna somehow seen him? The Queen had received notice from a messenger several days earlier about his escape from prison, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would ever be able to leave the Southern Isles, or otherwise somehow come back to haunt them.

But of course he would. He would want revenge against the royal sisters who foiled his evil plot and had him imprisoned as a traitor in his own kingdom. Elsa suddenly felt very guilty for not taking the threat more seriously; she had been foolish to believe them to be truly safe behind the palace walls, surrounded by guards. If she had pursued him as a possible suspect, put the guards on double-duty, and kept her sister at the palace instead of off to see the Trolls– with Kristoff of all people– then she'd be safe at this moment.

Perhaps Anna's poisoning had been Hans' doing all along. But why make her forget her memories? What purpose would that ultimately serve?

The thought that Anna was once again in harm's way made Elsa ill. She had failed her sister; just like she always did.

She stood straight and addressed her guard, taking on a queenly voice. "Lars, I want you to gather every able-bodied man in this castle. Wake them up if you have to. Arm every last one of them and ready enough horses. We're going up into the mountains to fetch my sister, and you are going to tell me _everything_ you know on the way there."

She pointed a pale finger at the snowman. "You too, Olaf."

Lars and Olaf both swallowed loudly and nodded before scurrying off together to rally the troops.

Elsa donned her winter cape, not bothering to dress out of her nightgown first, and pressed her hands together anxiously as she quickly made her way down to the stables; her fingers were already clammy and cold. She had to get to Anna before anyone else did, before any harm or danger could befall her. She just _had_ to.


	14. The Cabin

The one-room cabin was small, but cozy, and Anna immediately felt at home as soon as she stepped inside. To the left stood a bed just barely wide enough and long enough for Kristoff's stature, covered in layers of animal pelts, with a ratty woven throw on top. Against the far wall was a stone fireplace, with a carved rocking chair and wooden stool placed before it. In the corner sat a rounded, oblong bathtub made from treated wood beside a small table, and next to that was a cast iron stove for cooking indoors. The entire room had a woodsy aroma of pine and smoke, with an underlying stench of masculine odor. It was a wonderful scent, and Anna found herself breathing in large swaths of air through her nose to savor it, her belly growing warmer with each inhale.

Anna could've sworn she had been here before; it felt much too homey to be a coincidence. Was this the cabin from her memory? She tried to remember. Tried to make the connection. How many cabins could she have ever possibly visited in her life, anyway?

Kristoff moved straight for the fireplace upon entering, setting to work with logs and flint, taking a few minutes to get a roaring fire started. The intensity of it drowned the room in heat and light.

"We'll stay here for the night. It's too late to head back now," Kristoff explained, waving for Anna to come over by the fire. Unsteady on her feet, she walked to him. After slipping off her boots and setting them beside the fireplace to dry, she allowed Kristoff to take her hat, cape, and gloves.

Was this the man who had saved her from certain death?

She watched in wonderment as he moved to the corner of the room and removed his own coat and shoes, tossing them aside. His shirt came next, slipping it effortlessly over his head to reveal his bare torso beneath. A bowl of water sat on the table near the tub and he lifted the dipper to his lips, drinking eagerly, allowing rivulets of water to leak from his mouth, cascading over his cheeks and chin, and ultimately down his chest, making their way to the top of his trousers. Anna's breath caught in her throat and her stomach fluttered.

The auburn-haired princess wondered briefly if it was proper for a common man to nonchalantly disrobe in front of royalty, but she decided that she didn't care. His body was beautiful to look at; he was perfectly bulky– muscular, but not _too_ muscular. He still looked almost soft, like her body could mold into his if she pressed herself against him just right. It made her want to paint him, to capture his golden skin and hair and eyes in her brush and get it down in oils.

"New" Anna was surprised by the urge.

When he turned back to where she stood, Anna looked away quickly, hoping he didn't notice her staring.

"You can sit," he offered, gesturing toward a chair with his hand. Anna did as she was told.

"Are you hungry?"

Before the princess could respond, her stomach growled, breaking through the silence of the room, as if to answer on her behalf.

–

"This is… terrible." Anna couldn't even lie. Her face scrunched from the sour taste of the stew Kristoff had prepared for their evening meal. She was curled up in a blanket in the rocking chair, sitting cozily with her feet tucked beneath her as she warmed herself before the fire. The travelling pair had beaten the blizzard by only an hour, and the wind outside the tiny cabin howled and whistled with the intensity of the storm.

"There's a reason I'm not Arendelle's Official Royal Chef," Kristoff snorted, gobbling up his own bowl of stew. He spoke with his mouth full. "When you're forced to raise yourself you learn to eat for sustenance– not for fun."

This was how he lived. Isolated up here in the mountains, in this ramshackle little hut, away from human contact. Away from people. Away from _her_. With no one else in the world to take care of him but himself. It made Anna's heart ache for the Ice Master.

Feeling brave, but mostly devastatingly hungry, Anna took large spoonfuls and began shoveling the stew into her mouth, speaking between bites.

"So... you really don't know what happened to your family, huh?"

Kristoff swallowed his own spoonful. "I really don't."

"Didn't you ever try to find out?"

Kristoff shrugged from where he sat shirtless on the stool across from Anna. "Not really. I asked around a bit when I was a teenager, but it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I just accepted it as hopeless and moved on with my life."

"How old?"

"What?"

"How old were you when you… lost them?"

Kristoff thought for a moment. "Six, or seven, maybe?"

"You've just lived alone all the way up here in the mountains since then?"

 _I wasn't always alone_ , Kristoff thought, remembering the last time she had shared his bed. But he said nothing about it.

"Sometimes it's better to be alone," he said instead. "Well, I'm not _really_ alone, anyway. I have the Trolls. And Sven."

Anna's face fell and her shoulders slumped. "But what about people?"

"Reindeers are better than people."

"Don't you miss them?"

"Miss who? People?"

"No," Anna's eyes turned sad. "Your parents."

Kristoff shrugged, but his amber eyes glistened.

"I think I miss my parents," Anna spoke into her bowl as she brought another spoonful up to her lips. "But I don't remember them. All I know is that they perished in a shipwreck a few years ago. On their way to my cousin's wedding in another kingdom."

Kristoff knew all too well what had happened to the former monarchs. His eyes trailed down to the bowl in his lap. He suddenly didn't feel very hungry.

"You know… maybe losing your memories isn't such a bad thing," he said softly.

Anna choked on a piece of rabbit meat and coughed, pumping a fist to her chest to help dislodge the blockage.

" _Excuse me?_ " she squeaked.

Kristoff set down his bowl and rested his elbows on his knees, interlocking his fingers in the space between them. "You don't remember any of the bad stuff that's ever happened to you. You don't remember all of the times you've been hurt, or the people who've hurt you. The people who've abandoned you, or died, or disappeared without a trace, or walked out of your life… you get to start over... start fresh."

She noticed for the first time how tired he looked; his usually warm brown eyes were sunken and sad as he gazed into the fireplace. It was her fault, really; he was only exhausted thanks to her antics involving leaving the palace, as well as having to escort her on this trip– both times against his will.

He always seemed so tense and restless around her, yet she always felt so comfortable and calm around him. The pleasure he had given her the previous night had been exquisite, unlike anything she had ever known– as far as she knew– and she had been just as eager to reciprocate, but he had stopped them before they went any further.

Now was her chance to find out what they meant to each other; to find out why Anna felt the way she did, and why he affected her so strongly.

This time, Anna wouldn't let him stop them.

Slowly, as though he was a frightened animal that might run at any moment, Anna rose and crossed the way to Kristoff, allowing the blanket she had draped loosely about her lithe frame to slip from her shoulders. She knelt on the rug before him and placed her hands atop his own, looking up into his face with her own freckled visage, her peachy skin glowing in the light it reflected.

"But I don't remember _you_ ," she whispered, her jewel-toned eyes shimmering; the firelight danced in her irises, just beneath her lashes. "I'd give anything to remember what you are to me."

Kristoff's heart thumped in his chest and he looked at her with wide eyes, scanning her face.

"I would, too." The brutal honesty of his own words scared him. But she couldn't remember; if she remembered, then he was sure she'd think differently.

"So, we _were_ something?"

Kristoff sighed and put his face in his hands. He pressed his elbows harder into his knees. "It's complicated."

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me," Anna said softly, biting her lower lip, finding her courage. " _You're_ the one making it complicated. I… I love you. I _know_ I do."

Then: "I believe that... you love me, too."

Kristoff's heart skipped a beat. She loved him. Really, truly loved him. Even now.

 _If only she knew..._

He did love her back. He really, truly loved her. Always had; always would. There was no one before her, and no one after her; there would _never_ be anyone after her.

 _But if she knew the truth…_

"Did you love me before?"

Kristoff's voice was barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire as he gazed into her eyes: "Yes."

Anna swallowed hard. "Do you still love me?"

She continued to worry her bottom lip between her teeth until it was plump and red; the sight of it enticing him. Kristoff carefully cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand, brushing her lip out of the vice of her teeth with his thumb.

"Don't do that…"

His resolve crumbling at last, Kristoff leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly to Anna's. When she whimpered softly in reaction to the unexpected contact, it was his undoing.

He brought his other hand up to her opposite cheek and held her head between his hands for leverage as he desperately smashed his open mouth over hers. His princess kissed back in fervor, bringing her own hands up– first to grip his wrists, egging him on, before she twined them behind his neck, pulling him closer to her.

Kristoff rose from his seat, helping his princess to stand along with him, never once breaking their connection. He pressed the entire length of his body flush along her front, and when she gyrated madly against him, he feared for a second that he would spend himself inside his trousers right then and there; just to know that she wanted this as badly as he did was enough to do it for him. It had been so long– for both of them, although she didn't know it.

Anna felt her nipples harden into buds beneath her clothing, stimulated by the friction of Kristoff moving against her breasts. Every point of contact with Kristoff's body sent tingles through her central nervous system, electrifying her, setting her skin aflame; she felt hotter than the fire that burned behind them. She needed more; she needed _him_.

When Anna broke the kiss to pant for air, Kristoff took his chance to move his lips over the pulse points along her neck and jaw, causing his princess to tremble harder with each suckle; he took a second to unfasten the neck of her blouse, revealing her cleavage, and hungrily brushed his lips across her decolletage and the top of her breasts.

To Anna, the sensation was pure bliss, and she had to grip Kristoff's shoulders to stay upright, dizzy with pleasure.

"Beautiful," he murmured into Anna's hair, his voice heady with lust as he palmed her breasts through the fabric of her bodice. Kristoff inhaled deeply behind her ear; her scent was intoxicating, like lilies and cinnamon, and he was always instantaneously inebriated by it. "You're so beautiful."

If anything, Anna thought _Elsa_ to be the beauty of the family– with her milky skin and silver hair– but coming from Kristoff the words rang true, and Anna's heart swelled at the affirmation. She could feel how hard he was for her even through the layers between them, proving his words, and she eagerly reached down to grip him through his slacks, eliciting a groan from Kristoff's throat.

"If you keep that up…" he growled, but didn't follow up on his threat. Instead, he turned her to face away from him, unlacing her embroidered bodice and helping her out of it, followed by her periwinkle blouse and royal blue skirt. He then knelt and carefully removed her bloomers and stockings. When she shivered at the sudden exposure of skin, despite the warmth of the fire, Kristoff wrapped himself around her and pressed his bare chest to her back, embracing her, planting tender, wet kisses along the tops of her freckled shoulders.

His hands moved to cup her bare breasts, and Anna inhaled sharply. His calloused palms were hot on her skin, but surprisingly soft, and she found her nipples were incredibly sensitive to his ministrations as he pinched and twisted the buds. Her body moved of its own accord in response, pushing her bum back into Kristoff, grinding against his hardness; he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"Kristoff," Anna breathed. She reached behind herself to grab at him, reckless with lust. The words left her lips before she could even think of them: "I want you."

In one swift movement, Kristoff bent and scooped her up into his arms to carry her over to the other side of the room. The jostling motion caused the rest of her hair to tumble loose from her chignon.

"Have we made love before?" Anna asked. Then her face contorted. "Am I virgin?"

Kristoff shushed her with a light kiss on the lips.

"Don't worry. Let me take care of you," he whispered in her ear, and Anna nearly melted into a puddle in his arms at the words.

Kristoff laid her down on the bed, the soft furs tickling her bare backside as she sank into the old worn mattress; it seemed to be molded to the shape of her body. He crawled on top of her, still in his trousers, and kissed her full on the mouth; slowly, sensually, tasting her, and Anna couldn't help but moan deep in her throat.

He reached a hand down between them, to the top of her thighs, and began rubbing her most sensitive spot, causing Anna to hiss and arch her back at the sensation. Kristoff's fingers felt experienced and confident, as if he knew exactly where and how to touch her.

The princess wiggled about on the bed, not entirely sure of what she wanted but she knew she needed more. As if reading her thoughts, Kristoff slipped a finger inside and Anna threw her head back with a moan. He pumped his digit in and out of her, slowly at first, gradually gaining speed, and it wasn't long until he found a steady rhythm that made Anna gasp and buck her hips.

When it became almost too much for Anna to bear, Kristoff removed his finger from her and stuck it in his mouth, laving the digit clean with his tongue. The flavor of her essence was sweet and musky and coated the inside of his mouth– he swore he would never tire of it.

"God, you taste so good," Kristoff breathed, removing his finger from his mouth with a _pop_. His praise made Anna blush.

He moved himself down her body and crouched, aligning his face with her most private of parts.

"Kristoff, what are you–"

His hot breath ghosted over her triangle of auburn curls and she shivered in anticipation.

"Do you want this?" he asked, his voice husky.

Yes, she wanted this. Whatever _this_ was. Badly.

Unable to find the words, Anna nodded her eagerness.

Upon Kristoff's tongue making first contact, Anna jumped. He continued to lap at her feminine flower, causing Anna to fist her hands in the sheets, her fingers searching for purchase. Her body squirmed uncontrollably, thrashing about on the mattress as her pleasure heightened, and Kristoff had to wrap his arms around her thighs to hold his princess steady, pulling her closer into his mouth and dipping his tongue inside.

Anna wept his name in between gulps of air as Kristoff trailed a broad stroke of the flat of his tongue upward, lavishing the attentions of his lips and tongue on the bundle of nerves at her center; when he slid two thick fingers into her opening, Anna keened, fisting a small hand in Kristoff's hair rather roughly. She felt as though she might break if she didn't find release soon.

"Kristoff," she begged. " _Please._ "

Even Kristoff couldn't fight it anymore; his own arousal throbbed painfully between his legs. Reaching down, he slid his trousers down his legs and stepped out of them, allowing his erection to spring forth from a bush of thick, burnt gold hair; his member was magnificent, and the sight of it caused molten nectar to pool in Anna's womb as he climbed on top of her.

Oh, how she ached for him.

This "new" Anna– the one without memories– was essentially a virgin; any carnal knowledge she had learned in her previous life with him had been wiped clean. The thought crossed Kristoff's mind briefly that he should stop now, rather than ruin her again, but any semblance of self-restraint dissipated when she whimpered his name and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. He kissed her as he pushed himself inside, breaking the kiss only to let out a groan, overcome by the sensation of sheathing himself in her tight, familiar warmth.

"Does it hurt?" he managed through gritted teeth, utilizing all of his remaining self-control to not pound her senseless, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.

Anna shook her head. Her freckled cheeks flushed pink with desire and her hair fanned out behind her head like a halo; she truly was his angel. "No. It feels wonderful."

Unable to hold back any longer, Kristoff pulled out and pushed back into her, angling his hips to hit the spot he knew she liked. Anna moaned loudly in response, tossing her head back to reveal her flawless white throat. It enticed him to put his mouth on the skin there, and he did so, nipping lightly with his teeth as he continued thrusting in and out of Anna with gradually increasing speed.

A vision flashed across Anna's mind, of the dream she had of the man on top of her, moving inside of her just as Kristoff was doing now. Past and present meshed in that moment, as if both were happening simultaneously; it was enough to drive Anna to the brink.

Just as she was losing herself in him, he was losing herself in her, and the sound of her angelic voice sobbing his name over and over caused Kristoff's movements to go off-kilter, his hips beginning to jerk erratically as he raced towards the edge with her.

"I love you, Anna," he whispered hotly in her ear as he thrusted, holding on to her quaking body as though his life depended on it; her smooth, unmarred flesh was pliant beneath his fingertips. "I've always loved you. _Only_ you."

His words made her come undone, and she let out a long wail, digging her nails into the skin of his back as convulsions erupted through her womb, rippling through her body in wave after wave of euphoric pleasure. Her walls tightened around Kristoff, drawing him further into her core, and soon enough he was crying out her name as he came as well, the contractions of her inner muscles milking every last drop from him.

Both of them spent, Kristoff pulled his wilting member free and lifted his weight up and off of her, gazing down into Anna's face as he supported himself on his elbows.

Anna stared up at him lovingly with half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "Is it... always this good?"

"Only with you," Kristoff murmured, leaning down to kiss the edge of her swollen lips.

 _What does that mean?_ Anna wanted to ask, but was too overcome with exhaustion.

"I know you're the one who saved me, Kristoff," the princess mumbled sleepily, letting her eyes flutter closed. She drifted off to sleep within moments. Kristoff watched her face for some time, lovely even in slumber.

"No, Anna," Kristoff whispered, although she couldn't hear. He brushed his knuckles gently along her temple. " _You_ saved _me_."

God help him, he was still so much in love with her, even after all of this time. He still needed her, like a drowning man needs air; like a sinner needs heavenly intervention, divine salvation from the eternal damnation of his own doings.

He needed her by his side, always. He couldn't tell her that they had once been engaged to be married; that he had left her alone at the altar on what was supposed to be their wedding day. If he told her the truth, then she would remember, and he would lose her for good. He realized now how much he needed her. He wouldn't let her go again. He would have to figure out a way to keep her this time.

–

Anna awoke sometime later, vaguely aware of an emptiness beside her where a warm body once was. She sat up in the bed, glancing around the room to see the ice man, still nude from their lovemaking, sitting on the stool in front of the fireplace, gazing into the dying embers. A contemplative expression was plastered across his boyish features, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Kristoff?" Anna croaked, her voice hoarse with sleep. She held the afghan to her neck, covering her breasts. "Kristoff, come back to bed."

The man turned to lock eyes with her briefly, then cast his gaze downward, hesitating for a moment before rising from his seat and walking over to the bed. His knuckles were pale, apparently from the effort of clenching his fists; Anna noticed the red nail marks etched into the flesh of his palm.

Kristoff stared at his spot on the bed for a moment, focusing on the indentation of the mattress that had been caused by the weight of his body; he squeezed his eyes shut, but he wasn't fast enough to stop the tears from escaping.

Anna held her arms out to him, the blanket falling forgotten from her chest, and Kristoff crawled into the bed beside her. He curled up against her inviting body and sobbed, allowing himself to be held. The princess did her best to comfort him, shushing him and stroking his hair and back, cradling him against her, wishing nothing but to ease his pain; for his pain was her pain as well.

She had no idea why he was so upset, but she decided not to ask; instead, Anna just held him as he cried, and pressed a chaste, comforting kiss to Kristoff's cheek, tasting the saltiness there. Her lips lingered on the stubble of his jaw a bit longer than she intended. A tear slipped from her own eye and trailed down her cheek.

Within seconds they were locking lips passionately, frantically grabbing at each other as he rolled on top of her and slid inside her weeping desire once again. The pace was rough and needy from the get-go; there were no words this time as they let their bodies say what their voices couldn't put into words, moving together in a perfectly synchronized rhythm.

Anna orgasmed almost immediately– her body still primed from earlier– with a cry that Kristoff swallowed with his mouth on hers; he followed suit shortly after, grunting through his release, their breaths mingling in the space between them as they came down together.

A few moments later his princess was sleeping again, snoring softly into his chest.

Maybe Anna would never remember their previous life together and they could start over anew with whatever this was. Elsa would never allow it, of course, but perhaps Kristoff could play Anna's memory loss to his advantage. He could lie to her to make her need him as desperately as he needed her; enough that Elsa would concede to the arrangement, for her sister's sake.

Kristoff was surprised at himself for having such an evil, selfish idea; he could never manipulate Anna in such a way. It wouldn't be right.

 _Then what are you going to do?_ His inner voice asked him. _You can't keep her._

Kristoff willed the thoughts to leave him be until the morning, and hugged his love's sleeping form a little tighter against his body.

At least for tonight, he could keep her.


	15. Hans

_Love is an open door…_

" _Glad I caught you."_

" _Hans," Anna breathed with relief upon recognizing the handsome stranger; he effortlessly pulled her up and into a dance, twirling her about the floor as easily as leaves falling in the wind._

 _She could hear a song come and go in her head. She could see the regal arms that encircled her in a dance. The thin, white-gloved fingers that brushed her cheek. The russet-colored hair. The bright green eyes that sparkled at her. The giddy excitement._

 _So many years spent in seclusion, and on her first night out she just so happened to fall– quite literally– right into Prince Charming? Anna thanked her lucky stars._

 _The scene shifted; Anna and Hans were sneaking about the palace grounds, away from the party. Anna wondered if he'd be her first kiss. He had been her first dance, after all. Would he kiss her tonight? Oh, she hoped so._

 _They were so alike, in so many ways. In fact, Anna had no reason to believe that they weren't absolutely perfect for each other. Plus, he was a prince, which was a bonus._

" _We finish each other's–"_

" _Sandwiches!"_

 _Hans' eyes lit up. "That's what_ I _was gonna say!"_

 _The location shifted again. Hans had led Anna to the most romantic waterfall ledge overlooking the palace below and the fjord beyond that. The full moon illuminated everything in silver, and Anna wondered if this would be when Hans made his move. In her opinion, they couldn't move fast enough; she had already wasted so much time missing out on everything the world had to offer while she and Elsa were shut away. The younger royal was more than ready to start living her life._

" _Can I say something crazy?" Hans bent down on one knee, taking Anna's hand in his. The princess gasped and clasped a hand to her clavicle._

" _Will you marry me?"_

 _She had expected a kiss, but a proposal? Her heart beat like mad; the night couldn't be going any more perfectly._

" _Can I say something even crazier?" Anna replied, her gut bubbling with excitement. "Yes!"_

 _Soon enough they were back at the party, asking Anna's elder sister for her blessing for their marriage._

" _You can't marry a man you just met," Elsa scolded, her expression flat._

 _Anna scoffed at her sister's dismissal. "You_ can _if it's_ true love _."_

" _Anna, what do you know about true love?"_

" _More than you," Anna replied, the agitation rising in her voice. "All you know is how to shut people out!"_

 _The newly-coronated Queen reeled slightly, her face falling. "You asked for my blessing, but my answer is 'no.' Now, if you'll excuse me."_

 _Hans reached for Anna's sister. "Your Majesty, if I may ease your–"_

" _No, you may not," Elsa cut him off sharply. "And I think you should go."_

 _The scene shifted. Anna was riding in Kristoff's old sled, being pulled by Sven, with the ice harvester at the reins._

" _Wait– you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" Kristoff scrunched his nose in disbelief at her._

" _Yeah," the princess laughed, dismissing his comment with a wave of her mitten as she continued explaining what had happened with Elsa. "Anyway–_ I _got mad, and so_ she _got mad, and then she tried to walk away, and I grabbed her glove–"_

 _Kristoff turned in his seat to face the chatty princess sitting beside him, holding up a gloved hand to interrupt her. "Hang on. You mean to tell me, you got_ engaged _to someone_ you just met that day?"

" _Yes, pay attention," Anna snapped, clearly irritated. She had only just met this strange man and was already super annoyed by him. He was not at all like her fiance; whereas Hans was polite, dignified, and shared her interests, this guy was brash, ill-mannered, and… well, annoying._

 _On top of it all, he also smelled a little funky._

" _Look, it doesn't matter," Anna huffed, crossing her arms. "It's true love."_

 _The ice man shook his head and smirked, turning his eyes back to the trail ahead of them. "It doesn't sound like true love."_

What does he know about love anyway _, Anna thought. Her days in seclusion were over; with Hans, she'd never be alone ever again._

 _The scene shifted once more. Anna felt cold, so cold, despite the fire that raged in the fireplace in the room. She reached out for Hans and fell into his arms, her body in agonizing pain as it slowly crystallized from the inside out as a result of Elsa's magic. The princess had been struck in her heart, and only an act of true love could save her now._

" _Hans, you have to kiss me!"_

 _She needed to kiss him… she needed..._

–

Anna awoke from the dream with a start, her chest heaving as she struggled to drag enough air into her lungs. She was immediately aware of a pair of strong, sinewy arms wrapped about her person, holding her close against a broad chest. The fine hairs covering his pecs tickled her back uncomfortably, and the heat pulsating from his bulky body was nearly unbearable; Anna felt herself quickly succumbing to sensory overload. Her heart palpitated painfully.

The vision had been much too real– too vivid– to be just a dream.

The princess shoved the man off of her, bolting upright in the bed as she attempted to catch her bearings.

Hans.

The man in the white gloves.

His name was Hans, he was a prince of the Southern Isles, and he was her betrothed. Her fiance. Her lover.

It wasn't a cabin from her memory; it was a room of the castle. She had been close to freezing to death, due to Elsa's magical ice strike, and Hans had been the one to save her with his act of true love. The man from her memory, warming her and pleading with her not to die–

It wasn't Kristoff after all.

Kristoff had been awakened from the motion, and was now sitting up beside Anna, a goofy grin crossing his features. "Good morning, my Princess."

He leaned in for a kiss and was stopped by a set of delicate fingertips on his lips, pushing him back a bit more roughly than he was expecting. He could tell instantly that something was amiss, that something had gone terribly, _terribly_ wrong overnight.

"Is everything alright?"

"You knew all along," she whispered incredulously. The mountain man scrunched his face in confusion, rubbing the grogginess from one eye with a fist.

"I knew what?"

"That we were lovers. That we were _in love_." Her voice shook with anger. She was, of course, referring to herself and Hans. But Kristoff interpreted it differently. His mouth hung open as he struggled to find the words.

"We… I mean… y-you remember?"

 _She remembers us?_

"Oh, I remember," she half-laughed, incensed. "I remember _everything_."

 _She remembers that we were lovers?_

Kristoff gulped. "Everything?"

 _She remembers that we were in love?_

"Every. Thing."

"So you remember… the engagement?" Kristoff's heart fell into the pit of his stomach.

"You really thought I wouldn't remember _my_ _fiance?_ " She was bristling with barely subdued rage now. This whole time, he had known she was engaged to Hans. Why didn't he tell her? Why did he let her go to bed with him? For all she knew her poor fiance was still out there somewhere, probably worried sick about where she was and who she was with.

"And last night– we– we– oh, my God!"

"I just thought–"

He thought they could try again. He thought they could be happy this time. His face turned dour and he damned himself for not being better at hiding his emotions.

Anna leapt from the bed, too enraged to properly cover herself. She snatched the throw blanket and wrapped it around herself haphazardly like a toga. "You just thought _what_ , exactly? That you could take advantage of the princess with no memory? Use her vulnerability against her to get what you wanted?"

Anna felt as though she were going to be sick; the smell of sex that still permeated the stuffy air of the cabin only served to worsen her nausea. It was all a lie: the sweet words, the way he held her, the way they had made love– it had all been a trick. An elaborate, nasty trick to get her into his bed.

 _That's not fair,_ Anna inwardly scolded herself. _You wanted him just as badly._

But she knew now that her desire for Kristoff was simply misplaced; it was _Hans_ that her subconscious mind had wanted all along. Kristoff could have told her the truth, and yet he hadn't.

 _Why?_

It made her feel dirty and used and deceived; she felt _ruined_.

Kristoff shook his head, his lips parting slightly. He could never keep her. No matter how badly he needed her. She would never be his, and he was foolish to have entertained the idea in the first place. And now, he had done the one thing he _never_ wanted to do: he had hurt her. Again.

Kristoff moved to touch her and she backed away instinctively. "Anna… I'm–"

"Don't tell me you're sorry," she growled at him through gritted teeth, jabbing a shaky finger in his direction. Her cold blue eyes were hard and her kiss-bruised and bitten lips trembled from the effort of keeping herself together. The unforgiving, relentless hatred she held for him was evident on her face; it was the same look she had given him a year earlier, when, after he had left her at the altar, she had raced to his cabin to make sure that no harm or tragic event had befallen him on their wedding day. It was then– in the most brutish, cruel manner he was capable of– that he had proceeded to break her spirit, and her heart, in one fell swoop.

Even when he had abandoned her, ruined her dream wedding, and embarrassed her in front of her sister the Queen and the entire kingdom of Arendelle– as well as all of the foreign dignitaries who had been invited to attend the ceremony– all she had cared about was him and his well being. She had always put him and his needs before herself and her own. And he had shut her down, crushed her flat.

Selfish. He was such a selfish bastard. He deserved to have been abandoned by his parents. He deserved to lose someone as sweet and loving as Anna. He deserved everything bad and nothing good.

He deserved to be alone.

"Take me home. _Now_."

He knew trying to explain would be pointless. She remembered everything, after all. More than likely she was remembering all too well how much she wanted to rip out his guts and hang his body from the gallows. There was no point to trying to meddle in her life anymore.

Without a word or a single look back at his princess, Kristoff rose from the bed and dressed promptly, stepping out of the cabin and into the dark gray of early morning to prepare the sled.

–

A knock at the cabin door some time later roused Anna from her self-pity; having long since braided her hair and dressed for the day, she sat up from where she had been crying into the old mattress and wiped her eyes.

"Go away, Kristoff," she shouted over her shoulder at the closed door, her back turned to it. "I don't want to see you until we're ready to leave."

When she heard the door creak open anyway, she whipped around to give Kristoff a piece of her mind for disobeying orders, but the sight of the person she saw step into the cabin instead nearly caused Anna's heart to stop. She slowly rose to her feet as her aquamarine eyes met his peridot ones from across the room.

"It… it's you."

Where she expected to see the burly, golden-haired, tawny-eyed mountain man stood a lean, russet-haired man with green eyes. He was dressed head-to-toe in black finery, with gold ornaments on the breast and shoulders of his fitted jacket, and a blood-red silk cravat at his neck. He carried a gray riding cape in the crook of his elbow. He looked like royalty.

On his hands were white gloves.

" _Anna_ ," the regal man breathed, sounding almost relieved. He walked forward, his shiny black leather boots clicking on the wooden floor with each step, and the princess shrunk back, backing away until the back of her knees hit the stool in front of the fireplace. Picking up on her uneasy body language, he stopped just short of reaching her.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked softly.

Anna hesitated. "You're… Prince Hans. My… my fiancé."

It came out more like a question than a statement, but the man nodded anyway.

"Yes, sweetheart. I've been _so_ worried about you."

"Where's Kristoff?" Anna's voice trembled slightly. This was him. Her fiance. Why did she feel so apprehensive?

"That maniac who kidnapped you?" Hans scoffed. "He ran as soon as we pulled up on horseback. But don't fret, my sweet; I've sent my best men after him to ensure that he doesn't escape justice for his crimes."

Crimes? That couldn't be right. Elsa had been the one to send her with him. She trusted him…

But Elsa had also refused to allow Hans and Anna to marry. And as far as the princess knew, her own sister had even attempted to _kill_ her.

Anna felt dizzy and she had to sit down.

"How did you know I was here? Did… did Elsa send you?"

Now that she thought about it, Anna realized that Elsa hadn't ever mentioned that she had a fiancé; not _once_ since she lost her memory. But why? It was as if the Queen had purposely withheld the information from Anna, to manipulate her into never remembering her fiance– and thereby ensuring she'd never marry her true love.

But somehow Hans had found his way to her, despite the odds; that _must_ be true love.

Hans frowned, his lower lip pouting; Anna could see the anger that flashed across his eyes, darkening them. "No. No, my sweet. Oh, you really don't remember, do you?"

Anna paused, then shook her head.

 _Why do I hesitate to answer him?_

"Your sister… she… oh, Anna!" Hans knelt on one knee before Anna's chair, laying his head in her lap. "She doesn't approve of our engagement. She doesn't want us to be together, Anna. It's just me and you against the world."

His words corroborated with her own memory, proving to Anna that this man was telling the truth; he was perhaps the first person to be truthful with her throughout this entire ordeal.

Awkwardly, Anna patted Hans on the head in what she hoped would be interpreted as a comforting gesture, but something about it didn't feel genuine; his face being so close to her womb made her squeamish and she wanted nothing more than to shove him off of her. His head snapped up to look at her and he rose to his feet, reaching out his hand.

"Come, sweetheart. Come be with me. Where you belong."

She could think of no reason to turn him down. After all, this was the man she intended to marry, right? Elsa had tried to take her own sister's life. And Kristoff was a liar. A liar and a criminal, apparently. He was nothing to her now.

Tentatively, Anna stood to her feet, donned her cape and hat, and exited with the strange man.

 _He's not a strange man,_ Anna chided herself. _He's Hans. Your betrothed… and true love._

Upon stepping outside, the pair were greeted by two massive, red-haired men holding Kristoff between them. Anna noticed a bruise that was forming beneath his swollen left eye, as though he'd been hit.

"Anna!" Kristoff lunged for her but was held steadfast by the men. One of them yanked his head back by his hair and he hissed in pain.

Anna wanted to cry out for them not to hurt him, but was cut off by Hans stepping in front of her, slightly eclipsing her view. He moved towards Kristoff, who fought against being restrained– to no avail.

"So, _you're_ the miscreant who's been gallivanting about the kingdom with _my_ Princess?"

Raising one white-gloved hand, Hans carefully slipped the fabric from his fingers until his hand was bare, before reaching back and propelling his fist forward as mightily as he could. His knuckles made contact with Kristoff's face with a sickening _crack_ , and when the blonde man bowed backward from the blow with a groan, Hans turned as if to leave, but changed his mind and struck him with a fist once more, this time landing in Kristoff's gut. The air from his lungs was expelled forcefully in a _whoosh_ of air, and the Ice Master fell forward to his knees, gasping and gagging.

Anna had to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat at witnessing such a gruesome scene.

 _Oh, Kristoff..._

"You would be wise to not attempt to speak my fiancee again."

Kristoff spit on the ground at the prince's words. Unperturbed, the prince retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his hand, before replacing his pristine white glove. He turned to address the two brutes that held Kristoff prisoner.

"Cornelius, Bastian– see to it that this _criminal_ receives the punishment he _deserves_."

Anna didn't like the inflection in Hans' tone, or what it might indicate should be done, but said nothing. She supposed it would serve him right; whatever punishment Kristoff received would be too good for him.

But wouldn't it? Just seeing Kristoff in pain at this moment was like an iron vice squeezing her heart.

 _That's because he tricked you,_ Anna reminded herself. _He's got your head all messed up. He could have told you the truth, but he didn't. He lied to you. He took advantage of you. He deserves whatever he's got coming to him._

Kristoff's nose had already begun to swell and bleed, the bright redness of it seeping over his lips and into his mouth. When he gave her a pleading look with his eyes, his princess only gave him a look of indifference, turning her head to the side.

Anna's voice was low as she spoke into her shoulder. "You lied to me, Kristoff."

"Anna, please!" He struggled, still catching his breath. "You don't understand!"

"You lied to me," Anna repeated flatly from where she stood at Hans' side. Her expression was as cold as she could manage and her clenched fist trembled at her side. "You and Elsa both _lied to me_. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go home with my _fiance_."

Anna pursed her lips then. "Where is home, exactly?"

Hans chuckled. "Our palace on the North Mountain, my sweet."

"Our own palace?" Anna purposely made herself sound as queenly as possible, oblivious to the way Kristoff's eyes went wide. "How lovely."

" _No!_ " Kristoff pulled wildly at the hands that bound him, thrashing and kicking in a desperate bid to get free. Rather than stay to watch him struggle, Anna allowed Hans to take her arm and lead her to his horse.

"Anna! _Anna!_ "

One of the muscles-for-hire silenced Kristoff momentarily with another punch to his stomach.

Anna's fiancé helped her mount first, followed by himself; he took the reins and flicked them, starting the horse off on a trotting pace away from the cabin. Anna tried to focus on the path ahead, ignoring Kristoff's waning cries of her name in the distance and fighting back the tears that threatened to come.

–

 **A/N: WHY AM I LIKE THIS**


	16. Frozen Heart

_I love you…_

The voice of an angel.

 _Kristoff, I love you…_

"Anna… Anna..."

Kristoff realized he was murmuring her name into the ground as he came to, the world around him gradually spinning into view. A burning pain throbbed at the back of his neck, causing his head to ache as though it were being pierced by a thousand knives.

 _Kristoff..._

When he was finally semi-conscious, Kristoff found himself face down in the snow a few hundred yards behind his cabin. His hands and legs were bound with rope.

Memories of previous events came back to him slowly, trickling in as he struggled to focus through the pain.

Hans had come back. And he had taken Anna. Then he had his goons take Kristoff out back to finish him off. Apparently, they should have done a better job.

" _The bastard!_ " he spat, but it came out muffled due to the gag in his mouth. The exertion made him dizzy.

The white snow around him was stained with red, and when he moved slightly, his body sore, he felt the stickiness that matted his hair and dampened the fabric that stuck uncomfortably to his chest and shoulders. It was definitely _his_ blood. And judging by the look of it, he had lost quite a bit of the stuff.

 _That explains the dizziness,_ he thought mildly.

A sudden wave of nausea overcame him then, and he turned his face, emptying the contents of his stomach into the snow beside his head.

If he could get up, he could make a run for Arendelle, to the palace. He could get Elsa's help and a horde of guards to go after Hans.

 _There's no time._

Judging by the light around him, it was mid-day. Hans and Anna would have already been gone for hours.

Nearby, Kristoff heard a strangled gurgling sound. When he turned his head as much as he could manage without passing out from the pain, he saw Sven, tethered to a tree at the edge of the forest. The beast was agitated, pacing back and forth in a panic, pulling against his leash. Kristoff was thankful that he at least appeared to be relatively unharmed.

When Sven noticed that Kristoff was awake, he honked in his direction, desperately straining against his rope.

Kristoff had to free Sven. They had to go after Anna. He had to save her. He was the only one who knew where they had gone.

The Ice Master's vision tilted, and the world went black once more.

 _He had to save her…_

–

Anna turned this way and that, checking out her reflection in the mirror. She had donned the evening gown that Hans had gifted her and insisted she wear to dinner: it was black satin with full-length, off-the-shoulder sleeves and red floral accents embroidered at the hems, with a proper corset underneath her bodice to cinch her already tiny waist even further. She'd done her hair as he'd instructed as well, in a single long braid down her back.

He told her that this was how she usually dressed, but Anna swore she had never worn anything more uncomfortable in her life. It didn't seem to suit her sense of style at all, and the material was uncharacteristically thin for Norwegian winter, even for a party dress. Flashy, form-fitting gowns seemed to be more of Elsa's thing– even the colors were ghastly and clashed with Anna's pink skin and orange hair.

The mirror she gazed into was made of ice, as was everything else in the castle; Hans had failed to mention that their palace was an ice palace before arriving.

As satisfied as she could be with how she looked, Anna left her room and made her way downstairs, to where she presumed the dining hall would be. The castle was completely devoid of life, nary a guard or servant to be found, and so Anna had to find her own way.

"You look lovely, my sweet," Hans greeted when Anna entered the room at last, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. His lips felt cold. Then again, everything felt cold in the palace of ice. Her exposed skin erupted in goosebumps.

As if reading her mind, Hans rubbed her arms up and down with his gloved hands. "Are you cold?"

"A little," Anna admitted sheepishly; the tip of her nose was numb and she longed for the comfortable warmth of Kristoff's cabin.

She waited for her stomach to flutter at her fiance's touch, but… nothing.

Hans clapped his hands in the air. Within moments, one of the red-haired brutes from earlier appeared, ducking under the doorway.

"Cornelius, start a fire in the fireplace. My intended is cold."

"I'm Bastian," the man growled, unamused.

Hans waved his hand at him. " _Whichever_ one you are, go on and _get to it._ "

"We're here to do your dirty work– not your housework." The man called Bastian _tch'd_.

"Then have your _brother_ do it. Where is he?"

The giant man cracked his neck. "Cleaning 'is dagger. Got some blood on it."

Anna's throat constricted. Blood?

 _Kristoff's blood?_

"Well, one of you better get a _bloody_ fire started in _that_ fireplace," Hans bit out, pointing for emphasis. "Unless you'd like me to ship you both back to Corona to serve out the rest of your life sentences?"

Bastian _tch'd_ again, this time begrudgingly moving towards the fireplace and setting to work. When he had finished and a small fire burned in the grate, Bastian stood, gave a sardonic bow, and left the room.

" _Bloody Stabbingtons,_ " Hans cursed under his breath.

Turning to the princess, Hans gave her a dry smile and held his arm out to her. Anna took it, and allowed her fiance to lead her to her seat at the dining table.

Placed at her seat was a cold plate of fish and noodles in a semi-frozen broth, and a goblet of watered-down wine. She tried not to show her disgust at the unappetizing meal before her. It was her best guess that either one or both of the Stabbington Brothers had prepared their supper.

"May I have an ale?" Anna asked hopefully, eyeing Hans' own stein as he took his seat across from her. Surely an ale would help to warm her up. Hans frowned, seemingly offended that she would even ask.

"Of course not, Anna. Don't be improper."

Anna nodded, picking up her fork but finding that she wasn't very hungry. She suddenly had a craving for Kristoff's homemade rabbit stew.

"Did you sleep well?" the darkly-dressed prince asked, his voice laced with concern.

Anna nodded emotionlessly in response, poking at her fish. Had he actually cared for her wellbeing, he wouldn't have tried to make her sleep on a bed of ice in a room of ice. In truth she hadn't napped at all when they arrived to the castle; the entire place gave her the heebie-jeebies, though she couldn't put her finger on why, making it impossible to fall asleep despite how tired she felt. Hans had explained that this wasn't their permanent living situation, and that soon enough they'd return home– to their _true_ home– but what he meant by "true home," Anna wasn't sure. She had been too unnerved to ask.

"That's good, sweetheart. I know the poison must still be taking a toll on your body."

Anna cocked her head to the side, eyeing him suspiciously; as far as she knew, only herself, Kristoff, and Elsa knew of the reason for her condition.

Well, and the Trolls. And the doctor. But Anna was sure that none of them would have told anyone.

"I never told you that I was poisoned."

Hans didn't miss a beat. "The man who kidnapped you revealed it to us when we captured him."

"Oh." Anna's gaze fell to her plate, feeling guilty for not trusting him. She should be ashamed of herself, trying to make him out to be some sort of villain when he obviously cared for her.

 _More than Kristoff ever cared, anyway_ , she tried to tell herself, but knew it was a lie.

As much as she tried to tell herself that Kristoff had taken advantage of her, she couldn't believe it. He had tried to keep his distance, but Anna had pushed and pushed until she forced him to give in to her, and now he would face punishment for crimes he didn't commit. Anna was abhorred at herself. Was she always this horrible? No wonder somebody had made an attempt on her life with poison; it seemed she deserved it.

Even her own sister had wanted her dead.

She wondered where Kristoff was now; probably rotting in a cell somewhere, because the princess had been too weak to have faith in him, too vindictive to speak the truth at a time when it mattered most. He might even be dead. Anna shuddered at the thought, her chest constricting with guilt and regret.

Hans narrowed his eyes, setting down his fork.

"You're not thinking about _him_ , are you?"

"Who?" Anna replied absentmindedly before catching herself. "Oh, no. I-I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Anna," he warned, clenching a fist atop the table. "What, did you have _feelings_ for the mountain man?"

Anna's face shot up from staring at her untouched food. A feeling of foreboding washed over her at the smooth-talking prince's sudden turn in demeanor.

"No– I mean–"

"Did you let him soil you?" Hans shouted, enraged. In the blink of an eye, he was up on his feet, throwing his chair to the floor and storming over to where Anna sat.

Roughly, he yanked her up by her arms, forcing her to her feet.

"You _whore!_ "

Anna's mouth dropped open. Before she could respond, Hans backhanded her across the face with his ungloved hand. She let out a shriek; the contact smarted, resonating up through her nose and face painfully, causing her to see stars. As Anna recovered from being struck, swaying on her feet, she watched stunned through watery eyes as Hans calmly replaced his glove on his hand.

"Oh, _Anna_." Hans pulled her against him, tucking her head beneath his chin. Stunned, Anna allowed herself to be held, but remained rigid. "You know I hate to punish you."

He ran a gloved hand– the same hand he had used to strike her– over her hair, and the young woman felt a freezing chill trickle down her spine. "I'm willing to forgive you this time. Perhaps you truly didn't know better, with your memory conundrum and all. That primitive beast of a man is to blame, really, for taking such advantage. But if we're to wed, then you _must_ exercise better self-control. Remember your propriety, sweetheart."

 _This can't be the Hans I remember._

Hans kissed her forehead and Anna's heart thudded wildly in her chest. "Let's forget about it."

Nothing but the sound of rushing blood and her own staggered breathing filled her ears; a cold adrenaline sweat had broken out over her skin, and she was acutely aware of the damp material of her dress that clung grossly to her back. She was finding it difficult to focus, struggling to try to process what Hans was saying to her, her mind still reeling from being hit.

 _This man is an absolute lunatic._

Hans' hand drifted from the crown of Anna's head to her shoulder blades, and even lower to the small of her back and the top of her buttocks, rubbing circles the whole way. Anna's heartbeat sped up even faster; she had an inkling of the intentions behind his touch.

"Hans…" Her voice trembled with fear.

Hans shushed her, pulling back so he could look at Anna with hooded eyes; his clear green gaze trailed from her lips, to her eyes, and back again, with no more emotion behind his expression than if he were simply sizing up a roast for supper.

When he closed the gap between them and touched his clammy lips to hers, Anna felt her stomach churn. Immediately revolted, her first instinct was to push him away from her in disgust, but had to remind herself that this was her _fiance_ ; surely she shouldn't be so repulsed by a mere kiss?

A vision of the way Kristoff had kissed her the previous night crossed her mind's eye. The way he had whispered such sweet words in her ear, holding her close as he made love to her so perfectly...

It made her body warm even now, tingling from the top of her scalp to the bottoms of her feet.

Pressing her lips into a hard line, Anna turned her head to the side.

"I'm s-sorry, Hans," the auburn-haired princess stuttered, pushing her palms flat against his chest to create some distance to separate them. "I just... need... time."

Anna was afraid of how he would react to her rejection, expecting another violent injury, but to her surprise he only smiled and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. The material of his glove was scratchy against the tender skin. She forced herself not to flinch.

"Of course, sweetheart," he obliged in his low, sickly sweet tenor. "Why don't you go have a rest? We'll talk more later."

 _Maybe some rest would be a good idea_ , Anna thought. She had to admit to herself that she was also desperate for any reason to get away from her fiance. His behavior bewildered her; how could this be the same man from her memories?

Nodding, Anna carefully peeled herself from Hans' arms, turned, and made her way up the staircase. She didn't dare glance back at him, but she could feel his eyes on her the entire way; it made her feel grimy.

As Anna made her way to her room and laid upon the hard bed, her head spinning, she felt many things, but the one thing she couldn't feel was any sort of love or affection for Hans.

It was Kristoff who filled her thoughts as she drifted off into a restless sleep.


	17. Found

_The ornate double-doors to the ancient cathedral opened wide for him as he approached._

 _Upon entering, the guests sitting in the rows of pews all rose at once, turning towards the back of the church to smile at him. An ethereal melody wafted through the air, echoing off of the high ceilings as the choir sang the wedding hymn that Anna had chosen especially for this day: Their wedding day._

 _There, at the altar, stood his princess, donned in her mother's wedding gown of white and crimson. She wore no makeup, but her hair had been done up in an intricate design, with crystal flowers woven throughout, a few copper curls left undone to frame her beautiful face. Upon her head sat her ceremonial wedding crown; it was mate to the one that sat atop the cushion held by a royal servant beside the altar, awaiting the moment that it would be placed upon Kristoff's own head to signify their union. The gold of it shimmered in the light that filtered in through the stained glass windows, the dancing jewels of light reflecting off of Anna's turquoise eyes that watched him from across the room with a look of love and adoration._

 _Smiling to himself, Kristoff made his way down the aisle, toward where his princess stood waiting for him, each step lighter than the last._

 _He had been so sure that he was destined to a life of isolation; he had accepted that, after being separated from his parents, he would never deserve the love of another person. But somehow, she had found him and saved him from a lifetime of loneliness. She was his angel– his saving grace._

 _His days in seclusion were over; with Anna, he'd never be alone ever again. Kristoff thanked his lucky stars._

 _When he at last stood before her dressed in his own crimson regalia, her hand, clothed in white lace, reached out to cup his cheek._

" _Kristoff?" she asked softly. "Can you hear me?"_

 _Kristoff?_

He whimpered. "Anna?"

"No, Kristoff. It's me. Elsa."

Kristoff's eyes snapped open. His vision was blurry, but as everything came into focus he could see the Queen's visage hovering above him, her icy blue irises wide and eyebrows furrowed with worry. She looked exhausted, as if she had been up all night, evidenced by the purple bags that sunk beneath her eyes.

He was back in his cabin, in his bed.

"Elsa," Kristoff breathed, letting his eyelids slip closed; it had only been a fever dream. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, yet," Elsa half-laughed. Her voice was tense. "You're not dead. For now, at least."

"Is Sven…"

"Sven is fine." When Kristoff didn't respond immediately, Elsa wrung her hands together. "Kristoff, where is Anna?"

He opened his eyes again, more slowly this time, his unfocused gaze fixating on the ceiling. He felt delirious and incredibly weak. All Kristoff craved in that instant was the numbness of sleep; he wanted to return to his dream of Anna.

"Gone." His voice was hoarse.

"Where has she gone?"

Kristoff's eyes rolled, his eyelids fluttering, threatening to pass out again. Elsa tapped his cheek lightly with her hand. A wet cloth fell from his forehead as his head lolled to the side.

"No, no, stay with me, Kristoff," she urged. "It's imperative that we know where she went. She may be in danger. We have reason to believe that Prince Hans may be back and–"

 _Hans._

Kristoff's amber eyes snapped open once more.

"Hans," Kristoff mumbled, as if suddenly remembering everything that had happened. His forehead creased. "Oh, _God_ , he took her."

The Queen gasped. "Hans took Anna?"

"Well, he didn't _take_ her. She went with him."

"You mean she went willingly?"

Kristoff nodded, hissing when the movement caused an arrow of pain to shoot through his skull.

"I don't like the looks of this." Elsa spoke– mostly to herself– biting her lower lip.

The mountain man forced himself up into a sitting position, easily brushing Elsa's hands aside when she attempted to keep him down for his sake.

He remembered the way she had scorned him, the hatred in her eyes as she left with the man she believed to be her fiance. It was his fault; if he had only told Anna the truth when he had the chance...

"I couldn't stop her," Kristoff lamented, carding his fingers through his greasy hair. A headache nagged just behind his eyeballs. "I tried to stop her… _damn it!_ "

He punched the bed beside himself with a fist and Elsa jumped in fright.

"It's all my fault. It's always my _goddamn_ fault." He buried his face in his hands, his voice muffled as he spoke into them: "Why can't I just can't leave her alone?"

The Queen was contemplative for a moment before she spoke: "Because you love her."

At hearing her words, Kristoff peeked from between his fingers to look at the Queen; she offered him a sad but sincere smile.

"What I feel for Anna doesn't matter; I couldn't protect her. Not even from myself," The blonde man removed his hands from his face and let them fall listlessly to his lap, sighing. "I am sorry, you know. For... everything."

Elsa nodded. "I know. But there's no time for that now."

Then, her tone turned urgent: "Kristoff, we _have_ to find Anna. Do you know where they've gone?"

Kristoff thought hard.

"The ice palace," he answered as the memory dawned on him. "The prince mentioned the ice palace. On the North Mountain."

Elsa swallowed. "You're sure?"

"Pretty sure."

The ice queen nodded and stood from her stool beside the bed, smoothing the front of her silken nightdress with trembling hands before readjusting her cape on her shoulders.

"Thank you, Kristoff. We have a man ready to escort you back to Arendelle on horseback as soon as possible. We need to get you to the doctor–"

"I don't want a damn doctor," Kristoff cut her off. "I'm going after her."

The fair-skinned woman shook her head. "We have a squadron of trained and armed soldiers already–"

"Then I'm coming with you," he stated matter-of-factly. Gritting his teeth, Kristoff threw his legs over the edge of the cot and planted his feet on the floor, wincing when his head pulsed with pain. He could feel the stiffness of a bandage at the nape of his neck, covering the wound where he had been struck.

This pain was _nothing_ compared to the pain he'd felt living the past year without his love; considering a lifetime without her now would certainly be the death him.

"Kristoff, I don't think you're in any condition to–"

"Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I'll be damned if I don't go with you and something happens to her."

Elsa smiled; she knew there'd be no stopping him. Nothing could keep the two lovers apart, especially if this whole ordeal were any testament to how they were continuously drawn together, despite the universal odds against them. They were meant to be together, and always would be, even if neither of them realized it yet.

"Of course, Ice Master. I'd expect nothing less from the finest man in all of Arendelle."

Kristoff snorted. "You flatter me, my Queen."

He knew Elsa well enough to understand the deeper meaning behind her words: despite what he had done, Kristoff still had her unofficial blessing.

Kristoff stood, wavering slightly before steadying himself, steeling his will against the pain.

"Let's go."


	18. Memories

_Anna's subconscious mind twisted and turned, splintering into a million different fractals as a vision began to take shape._

"Shhh _, Anna, be quiet," Kristoff whispered, nibbling at Anna's ear. The princess tried to moan his name, but the sound was muffled by the palm of his massive hand clamped over her open mouth._

" _Can you be quiet for me, baby?"_

 _Her had her up against one of the bookshelves in the castle library with her skirt hiked up about her waist. His free hand disappeared under that skirt and toyed with the wet warmth beneath, his formerly inexperienced fingers doing their best to bring her pleasure. By all accounts, it seemed to be working._

 _Anna let out another long, audible moan, her eyes rolling back before she squeezed them shut._

 _Kristoff's tutor would be arriving soon for his first lesson, so Anna knew he had to get her off before then– and quietly, lest some guard or servant come running to find the pair in such a compromising position._

 _She just couldn't control herself with him._

" _If you don't keep it down then this will be over much too soon," Kristoff warned lovingly, removing his hand from the princess' mouth to kiss her parted lips._

 _He needed to taste more of her. Kneeling down before the princess, he ducked his head beneath her skirt, disappearing into the fabric._

" _Kristoff, what are you– oh!"_

 _As his mouth went to work laving her most intimate parts, running his tongue from her pearl to her opening and back again, Anna's fingers fisted for purchase in the front of her dress; she felt his own fingers grip her thighs to hold her steady, his hair tickling the inner skin there as his head worked between her legs._

" _Kristoff," she panted, her body jerking. "I'm gonna–"_

 _The library turned into a trading post, the rows and rows of bookcases melting to give way to shelves of stores and wares for sale. Oaken sat behind the counter as Anna trudged toward him with her purchase in her arms._

" _Only one crazy enough to be out in this storm is_ yoo _, dear."_

 _The bell above the door tinkled the arrival of another customer._

" _Yoo and this fellow," Oaken corrected._

 _Anna couldn't help but stare at the tall stranger who had entered, his clothes crusted in a thick layer of snow. His brown eyes turned and met her own, and Anna felt her stomach flutter at the attention; when he advanced on her, stepping forward until they were toe-to-toe, Anna leaned back awkwardly against the counter, humming to herself._

" _Carrots," he stated from behind the icy cloth covering his face._

" _Huh?"_

 _The strange man leaned in then, close enough to kiss her. Anna blushed and turned her head._

" _Behind you," he clarified, obviously irritated by her slow uptake. The princess glanced down; sure enough, the carrots were stocked on the shelf directly behind her._

" _Oh, right!" Anna stepped out of his way._

What an odd duck, _she thought, scanning him up and down._ What business could he possibly have out here in the middle of a blizzard in July?

" _Will you sit still?" Anna huffed from her seat behind the easel. "And stop fiddling with your collar."_

 _They were in her studio at the palace. Kristoff let out a noisy breath and dropped his hands from where they had been pulling the collar of his fitted jacket away from his throat. He hated wearing the full regalia that had been required of him as of late._

 _Outside it was a beautiful summer day, and the sunlight that came in through the wide windows illuminated Kristoff like a golden god._

 _If only he would act like one._

" _Do I really need a picture of myself?" he whined with a frown, now fussing with the sash that crossed his chest at a diagonal. "I mean, it's not like anyone will see it but me and you, anyway, and we both know what I look like."_

" _It's tradition," Anna explained impatiently. "As the Duke of Hordaland you'll need an official portrait at some point, so it might as well be by_ me _. And I just so happen to have a break in between planning wedding stuff right now, so..."_

 _Anna shrugged her shoulders, applying the red-tipped paintbrush to the canvas once more. She bit her tongue in concentration._

" _Now shut up and let me work."_

 _He pointed at something behind her. "Uhh, Anna?"_

 _Anna turned around to see that the landscape had changed again. She was outside Kristoff's cabin, hauling a brand-new wooden bathtub towards the door where Kristoff stood with his hands on his hips._

" _What the hell is that?" he asked, gesturing toward the struggling princess. She was oblivious to the testiness of his tone._

" _This?" She groaned from the effort of dragging the tub; it was surprisingly heavy, despite how easily it slid along in the mud. "Consider it an engagement present."_

" _We got engaged over two months ago."_

" _Then consider it a late engagement present. Or early Easter present._ Whatever _." Anna groaned, her patience wearing thin. "If you're going to be a member of the peerage then you're gonna have to start bathing like one. Will you just help me already?"_

 _Either way, if she was going to continue staying with Kristoff as frequently as she had been, bathing in a tub rather than the freezing stream would be preferable._

 _Moving forward, Kristoff picked up the copper-haired woman up in his arms and spun her around like a small child, both of them laughing. They were standing near the Arendelle docks now, Anna having just gifted him a new sled to replace the one he had lost on their adventure up the North Mountain._

" _I could kiss you!" The phrase escaped from him before he could stop it._

 _Flushed with embarrassment, the ice man quickly set Anna down and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly._

" _I could– I mean, I'd_ like _to– I– may I? We me? I mean,_ may _we? Wait, what?"_

 _He was so cute when he bumbled over his words._

 _Anna smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek, to his elation. "We may."_

 _Without sparing another moment, Kristoff stole forth and kissed her warmly; their first kiss. His lips were soft and dry, but firm against her own, and as the princess wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, she felt an unfamiliar heat begin to pool in the pit of her abdomen._

 _When she broke away from the kiss, the Ice Master was kneeling before her with a tiered birthday cake in his arms– another memory._

" _I love you, baby!" he sang out, obviously caught up in the excitement of the party._

 _Anna was taken aback by the unexpected confession and clasped a hand to her breast; her heart pounded._

Did he really just say that? _she thought, blushing and giving Kristoff a shy smile. He smiled embarrassedly in return and shrugged._

 _Then, for confirmation, he followed up with: "I do."_

 _They were suddenly out in the garden, the pale moon the only source of light. Kristoff sat on the cast iron bench beside the lavender bushes and sunflowers with his hands on his knees as Anna approached from the side of the castle. It was a favorite meeting spot of theirs, and they met there frequently; it was the one place they could be together without supervision._

" _Well, Elsa won't be getting out of bed any time soon. As soon as she finished her tea, she was out cold– pun not intended."_

 _She sat down beside Kristoff and gave him a kiss on the cheek._

" _I want you," she stated decisively._

 _Kristoff chuckled. "I want you, too, Anna."_

" _No, Kristoff, I mean– I_ want you _, want you."_

 _Realization crept over the blonde man's features. "Oh…_ ohh _."_

" _Please, Kristoff," she murmured, snaking her arms around him and kissing his cheek again, lingering this time. "Take me to bed."_

 _Kristoff gulped nervously. "I can't. I've never– I mean, you've never– we've never–"_

 _Anna's hand moved down to grasp his length through his trousers, feeling the apparent arousal caused by her proposition._

 _Sighing, Kristoff removed her grip from around him._

" _Anna…"_

 _She pouted; even in the moonlight Kristoff could see the scarlet blush that spread from her cheeks to her breasts, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress._

" _Don't you want me, Kristoff?"_

" _Yes, but… I don't want to ruin you. You're a princess… and I'm… just_ me _. A commoner. You're going to have to marry a prince or something someday, right?"_

" _I can marry whoever I like," Anna scoffed, returning her arms to their place around his neck._

 _She leaned closer into him. "We've already done pretty much everything else. I just want…_ this _. Need this. With_ you _. Because…"_

 _Anna bit her lip. "Because I love you, too."_

 _That was it; with those five words she had shattered the last of his defenses. Without another word, Kristoff lifted her as easily as one would a down pillow, carried her over the threshold, and to her bedchamber._

 _Another memory formed suddenly, replacing the previous one._

 _The princess stood in the garden, before the cobblestone wall, overlooking the inlet. The gray clouds in the November sky overhead promised rain. Her unbrushed hair whipped about her face in the chilling gusts coming in from the sea, her rumpled skirts wrapping and unwrapping themselves from around her legs. She had been meaning to get her dresses tailored to remove the excess material for some time; since she had lost quite a bit of weight after the wedding, her clothes were too large for her now._

 _At her feet sat a pile of stretched canvas frames, each one with a different representation of Kristoff painted on its surface. He had frequently modeled for her painting sessions during their courtship._

 _One of the guards had offered to start a bonfire for her in the bailey, but the thought of burning his portraits hurt her almost as much as seeing his face every time she entered her studio did. Not that she painted much anymore, anyway; her heart just wasn't in it. It had been months since she painted him last._

 _Bowing at the waist, Anna picked up the first painting. It was a small portrait of Kristoff's visage that she had painted shortly after their first kiss; the first time she had ever painted him. His deep amber eyes stared at her from the image._

 _Her eyes scanned the mountains across the way for the approximate location of Kristoff's cabin– her target._

 _Bending her elbow, Anna brought her arm into her chest before casting it outward, throwing the small canvas as one would a discus in the general direction of the Ice Master's dwelling. It twirled through the air for a few moments before catching on the wind, turning sharply, and falling into the waves below._

 _Scrunching her face, Anna picked up the next painting: a large portrait of Kristoff in the traditional Sami clothing that he had worn for Easter._

 _Eyeing her target again, Anna repeated the motion, throwing the painting as hard as she could. It twisted once and fluttered on the breeze briefly, before nosediving similarly as the first._

 _Her mouth puckered in disappointment. She picked up another painting, another large one, featuring Kristoff and Sven posing in their noble regalia, and hugged it to her breast. It was one of the last portraits she had painted of him before the wedding._

 _Anna leaned forward, over the garden wall, and gazed down at the dark waters below._

 _She imagined what it would be like to fall into those icy depths; her oversized skirts swallowing her whole as the fabric became heavy with saltwater, weighing her down; her body shutting down as seawater filled her lungs, leaving nothing but a feeling of euphoria; her body sinking peacefully to the bottom of the inlet._

 _Lifting her skirts with one hand and holding the painting in the other, Anna stepped up onto the wall, swaying a bit in the wind before catching her balance. Once steady, she bent her elbow once more and brought her arm in, grasping the painting by its frame, before projecting it forward. The force of the motion caused Anna's body to jerk, and she lost her balance immediately, one boot slipping over the edge as her arms flew out from her sides._

"Anna!"

 _A gust of icy wind caught Anna before she went over, tossing her roughly back, down to the ground of the garden._

 _In the blink of an eye, Elsa was at her side, holding her around her shoulders._

" _What were you doing?" she shouted angrily at her younger sister, unable to hide the fear in her voice. It made Anna feel like a child being scolded for misbehaving._

" _I didn't mean to… I wasn't trying to…" Anna's voice broke and she began sobbing, covering her eyes with her hands as she cried._

 _A sob escaped Elsa's own throat and she clutched her sister to her breast, willing her thundering heart to calm._

 _As Anna focused on the vision, another one began to play before her._

 _After a gruelling meeting of the royal council to decide on food-storing policies and practices for the upcoming harvest and subsequent winter, Anna asked to be excused from her royal duties for the day; the Queen was more than happy to oblige her sister's request._

 _Anna wandered the castle aimlessly for a bit. Unfortunately, many parts were tied to her memories of Kristoff: the garden, where they had shared their first passionate kiss; the courtyard, where he had first professed his love for her at her 19th birthday party; her bed, where they had made love for the first time that same night, and numerous times after. Every inch of the palace was filled with memories of her former love, causing Anna's heart to constrict as though it were caught in somebody's fist._

 _It had been three weeks since their failed wedding. She considered going to see him, but was torn; whereas her mind told her that the sun had set on their time together, her heart wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and stay there. Either way, deep down Anna knew it was not her choice to make, but she still held onto the hope that he may still come back to her._

 _Finding her way to the gallery without consciously meaning to, Anna passed through the doorway into the studio and took a seat on the stool. She reached over, plucked a new blank canvas from the stack and set it upon the easel. The princess gathered her palette, oils, and spirits, collected her brushes, and began mixing, taking her time to savor the process– to lose herself in it._

 _The muscle memory came to her easily, as she had painted his visage a thousand times before. First, his skin: a fleshy, golden tone, like sunlight on a blush-colored rose. Then, his hair: soft to the touch, like silk, but the color and strength of stalks of wheat. Following his hair came his lips, like two thin, peachy petals, and then his nose; round and bulbous, but shapely and masculine. His cheeks were like two apricots, and his neck was thick and muscular._

 _Then, his eyes._

 _His eyes…_

 _The sun had begun to set just outside the studio window overlooking the harbor, casting the room in a hazy orange glow; it reminded Anna of the firelight in Kristoff's cabin, the way it shone in his irises whenever he gazed down at her. When she looked out through the glass she could see the fiery-red hues dancing on the waves, reflecting off of the faces of the snow-capped mountains in the distance; he was somewhere out there, all alone once more. Just as Anna was now._

 _She mixed the warm brown color of his eyes, adding in touches of gold, chestnut, and scarlet, using the dying light of day to her advantage to get the color just right. With each stroke her heart ached a little more, until she was face-to-face with the image of the man she loved more than anyone or anything in the world. The sight of him smiling at her made her cry, and she dropped her palette and brushes to the floor with an obnoxious clatter as the sobs began to rack her small body._

" _Come back to me," she whispered into her palms. "Please, come back to me."_

 _When she removed her hands from her face, uncovering her eyes, she was standing at the altar, dressed in her mother's wedding gown. Her hair had been done up in a meticulous style by Elsa, woven with strands of magical ice flowers for effect. Anna glanced about nervously as the crowd inside the cathedral began to murmur amongst themselves, overpowering the wedding choir with the dull roar of noise. The Queen stood nearby, wringing her hands and shooting Anna half-hearted looks of reassurance._

 _It had been over an hour, and still nobody had seen any sign of Kristoff._

 _Anna's first fear was that something had happened to him; that a terrible tragedy had befallen her beloved on their wedding day; yet, she had stood waiting, none the wiser to the reason for his absence. But she couldn't wait any longer; the growing fear clutched at her chest._

 _When one of the guards returned from his search for the Ice Master, shrugging his shoulders in a way that indicated they'd had no luck finding him, Anna turned from the altar and raced down the aisle, to the doors at the back of the church, and out into the sunlight._

 _Working quickly, she freed a horse from the harness that attached it to the carriage at the bottom of the cathedral steps and alighted, sitting with her legs astride and gown flowing behind her. Queen Elsa, along with a gaggle of guards and wedding guests, burst forth from the chapel doors, yelling for the princess to wait, to come back, to_ please _not do anything rash, but their cries fell on deaf ears as Anna kicked the animal into high gear, speeding off towards the mountains._

 _Next thing she knew the sun was setting and she was pulling up to Kristoff's cabin, her gown ruffled and hair a mess._

" _Kristoff?" she cried out, glancing around. The clearing was darkening quickly, and so Anna had to squint to see. Upon seeing her betrothed hunched before the chopping block with an axe in his hands, his blonde hair hanging in his face, her shoulders slumped with relief and she let out the breath she had been holding since Arendelle._

 _Kristoff paused mid-swing and spun around to see her, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "Anna."_

" _Thank goodness you're alright. I was so worried that something had happened to you," she said with a smile, dismounting and hurrying over to the mountain man. When she attempted to embrace him, however, he gently pushed her away._

" _Anna, what are you doing here?" His voice sounded tired and… annoyed? He seemed miffed by her sudden presence at his cabin._

 _The princess blinked and took a step back, her gown rustling from the motion. "I should be asking you the same thing. Don't you know what today is?"_

" _Yeah." Kristoff's voice was emotionless. The callousness of it made Anna's heart sink._

" _So, you know that we were supposed to be getting married today… right?"_

 _Kristoff didn't answer; instead, he turned back around and brought the head of the axe down upon the log with a_ crack _._

" _Kristoff?" Anna anxiously tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She willed her voice not to tremble. "What's going on?"_

 _Scooping up a bundle of freshly-chopped firewood in his arms, Kristoff turned to face Anna; the look in his eyes was enough to make icy cold fear begin to seep into Anna's blood._

" _Go home, Anna."_

 _With a final look of indifference, he brushed past his intended and headed for the cabin door. She trailed him._

" _I'm not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what's going on."_

" _I said go home."_

 _Anna was bewildered and her words came out frantic. "As far as I'm concerned,_ this is _my home. With you."_

 _Kristoff snorted, a little more cruelly than he intended to. "Your home is at the palace. Where_ you _belong."_

 _She followed him inside, and stood behind him as he knelt before the fireplace, striking flint to get a fire started._

" _It's where you belong, too," Anna chided. "You belong with me."_

 _As a fire began to burn in the grate, Kristoff straightened up, keeping his back to Anna as he gazed into the growing flames._

" _No, Anna," he said firmly; there was an underlying tone of anger to his voice. "Unlike you, I'm_ not _royalty. No matter how you and Elsa try to dress me up and make me play the part."_

" _That's what this is about?" She fiddled with the front of her gown, her wide blue eyes burning holes in the back of his shoulder. "You know Elsa was gifting you a dukedom. You'd have a title. You'd be just as much a high-class member of society as the rest of them– the highest, actually."_

" _I don't want a title," Kristoff responded tiredly, his voice growing more agitated by the second._

" _You didn't object to being given the title of Arendelle's Official Royal Ice Master and Deliverer," the princess huffed as she jabbed a finger into his back. He whipped around to face her then, his eyes full of fire._

" _That's different. Ice is my_ life _. As a duke I'd have land, and tenants, and actual responsibilities. I don't_ want _to be a duke or anything of the sort. But you would've known that if you would've asked me what I wanted instead of deciding my entire life for me."_

" _That's how you really feel?" Anna's eyes turned sad, her voice growing bitter. She crossed her arms over her bodice. "That's how you feel about me?"_

" _I only accepted the dukedom when Elsa offered it because you didn't give me a choice otherwise."_

" _Kristoff, stop talking like this." She reached out to cup his cheek. "You're just nervous about marriage and the dukedom, but you'll be fine. I know you'll be great at it. Come with me, back to the castle, and we'll get married on the morrow. I'm sure most of the flowers and food will still be good, and–"_

" _There you go again, making my decisions for me," Kristoff seethed with a groan, running a hand roughshod through his hair. "I'm sick of you not listening to me. I'm so_ sick _and_ tired _of the dinners, the luncheons, the tutors, the convention lessons, using the proper utensils, memorizing every member of the royal family tree, not being able to take a piss or have a moment to myself to think without you or Elsa breathing down my neck and bossing me around, always telling me what to do, what to say, what to wear, what I'm going to be. You always just push and push and push until you get your way! Do you ever stop to think about me? About how_ I _feel?"_

 _He stopped abruptly when he realized that the expression on Anna's face had changed. Her slack jaw tensed. A single angry tear slipped down her cheek, falling off of her chin and staining the ivory bodice of her wedding gown._

" _I thought this was what you wanted. To be with me."_

" _Exactly," Kristoff spat, all the months of frustration and resentment bubbling to the surface, manifesting in his words. "It's what_ you _thought."_

 _Anna reeled; her heart felt as though it were splitting in half. She had always done what she believed he wanted– what they_ both _wanted. And now she was losing him: the love of her life._

" _You deserve someone worthy of you," Kristoff said quietly, looking down at his feet. "Someone with a good bloodline. Someone royal or noble. Someone like you. Not an uncultured commoner like me."_

" _I don't care!" Anna screeched, throwing her hands up in frustration. Tears began to fall unchecked down her freckled cheeks. "I don't care if you have a title! I don't care if you know which fork is for oysters and which is for salad. I don't care if you slurp your soup at the dinner table and burp whenever you feel like it. I don't care if you know the names of the Earl of Bryggenbergen and his wife and their entire family lineage going back to the Stone Age. I don't care if you can speak fifteen different languages, or forty-six, or a hundred! All I care about is_ you _."_

 _Anna was sobbing now, holding her wet face in her hands. Her voice was softer now: "All I ever cared about was_ you… _I love you."_

 _Kristoff turned away, too ashamed of himself to see the damage he'd caused. He fought the urge to comfort her, to pull her close and whisper that he was sorry and that he still loved her; he was too full of pride and bitterness for that now._

" _If you would've just said something… if you would've told me…" Anna shook her head. She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. When she spoke again, it was a broken whisper: "Why didn't you just tell me?"_

 _He couldn't give her a proper answer. It was his manly pride, perhaps. Or the fact that he could never tell her "no." Or the fact that he wasn't as good at self-sacrifice as she was; he was too selfish, too set in his ways to change now._

 _When at last she had managed to calm herself, hiccuping as she wiped the remaining tears with her fingertips, her voice was weak._

" _It's too late now, isn't it?"_

 _Kristoff's eyes flickered up. "Too late for what?"_

" _For us."_

 _Kristoff's face crumpled and he reached for Anna; she jerked away from his hands, like a kicked dog._

" _Anna–"_

" _Don't. Please, just… don't."_

 _She turned from the cabin and fled, never looking back._

" _Anna."_

 _The princess turned around at hearing her name, her winter clogs clicking softly on the tile of the foyer, audible over the muffled sounds of the Christmas party that raged just inside the doors to the great hall. Kristoff stood, dressed in his holiday finery, pointing a single finger above him; Anna looked up, seeing the mistletoe that hung there. As she was distracted, Kristoff took her wrist and carefully placed his gift to her on it; it was a bracelet, carved and polished from wood, intricately detailed with a floral pattern of lavender blooms and sunflowers. He had made it himself._

 _When her gaze trailed back down, her turquoise eyes boring into his tawny ones, she knew in that moment that she wanted nothing else in the world than to be with him always._

 _Eyes sparkling, he leaned forward to kiss her._

 _A knock at the door startled Anna from her stupor. The room had darkened considerably since she had retired to bed after refusing luncheon, meaning that Anna had lain there staring at the wall for some hours. She had returned from Kristoff's cabin the previous evening, on what was supposed to have been the happiest day of their lives._

 _She heard the door whine open and the sound of slippers approaching._

" _Anna?" It was Elsa._

" _I thought you might like something to eat," she offered lightheartedly. Anna felt a weight depress at the end of the mattress, shifting the bed slightly. But still Anna didn't respond or react._

 _Elsa continued speaking. "I brought you some potato soup and fjellbrød. Your favorite."_

 _The princess could hear the clinking of the tray in Elsa's hands, but the thought of food only made her bury her face deeper into the pillow, pulling the covers further up and over her head._

" _Okay," Elsa conceded, sounding dejected but hopeful. "I'll be back later."_

 _The elder sister gave her one last forlorn look before rising and leaving the room._

 _Anna pulled the covers back from her face to see Kristoff leering down at her, his breathing heavy and eyes dark with emotion._

 _They were together in Kristoff's bed. Outside the cabin, a summer storm raged, the crashing thunder and soft_ pitter-patter _of rain on the roof echoing within the cabin's walls. A fire crackled in the fireplace, making the air in the cabin toasty and aromatic; the heat of the room combined with the heat that emanated from Kristoff, his arousal radiating off of his sweat-slicked skin, made Anna perspire as well, her own arousal coiling deep within her core._

" _Are you ready?" Kristoff asked, gazing upon her with reverence. The apples of his cheeks were flushed with desire. Desire for her. She could feel his erect member poking her thigh, seeking permission._

 _Anna reached up and brushed Kristoff's temple with the back of her hand before tangling her fingers in his hair: "Yes."_

 _They had already consummated their relationship once before, on her birthday the previous month, but something about this time was different; whereas the first time was awkward and exciting, full of careful moves, bumped noses, and hushed giggles, Anna could now feel the depth of their emotional connection that either wasn't there before, or she simply hadn't noticed it to the degree she did now._

This _was true love._

 _As soon as he penetrated her welcoming flesh and Anna cried out in pleasure, his hot breath whispering in her ear, asking her to marry him, the scene shifted again, taking Anna from the warmth of the cabin to the cold of the ice palace._

" _I can't!" Elsa cried, hurling a dagger of ice directly at Anna's heart. It struck her full-force, plunging into her chest and knocking her to the ground, just as Kristoff arrived and fell to her side._

" _Anna!"_

She awoke with a bloodcurdling scream.

–

 **Whew, this was a difficult chapter. I hope the non-linear format wasn't too confusing. To clear things up, just in case:**

 **The events of Frozen take place the summer of Anna's 18th birthday (after it has already happened). Over the course of the next year, Kristoff and Anna grow closer. The following summer, on her 19th birthday, they make love for the first time. A month later, he proposes to her, exactly a year after they met, and the wedding was to take place early that autumn. This story takes place the following autumn, a year later (after her 20th birthday).**

 **If it's still confusing, I'm sorry, please let me know and I'll try to rewrite it to make it less so. Thanks for reading! There's only 2-4 chapters left at this point~**


	19. Revelation

Anna shrieked and bolted upright in bed; the pain in her breast was unbearable and she clutched at her gown wildly, nails scraping the fabric. Her heart felt as though it had been set on fire.

 _Am I having a heart attack?_

Half-awake and feeling as though she was being torn apart from the chest out, Anna tossed the covers aside, threw her legs over the edge of the bed, and forced herself to stand. She stumbled forward, the pain only increasing with each step, grunting as she pushed through it. Her heart felt close to bursting, as though it might explode at any moment or tear itself right out of her ribcage.

 _Have to… get to…_

A white light flashed through her mind, searing her consciousness. The memories were still coming, one after another.

They were flooding in now in random succession, each one as vivid as the last: Elsa's coronation ball; Marshmallow attacking herself and Kristoff; her parents' funeral; her sister running off to the North Mountain; Anna's first meeting with Hans; her mother kissing her goodnight; sneaking off to the garden after Kristoff's evening lessons; she even remembered Elsa accidentally striking Anna with her magic when they were children, turning her hair white– _every_ memory she had ever lost in her entire lifetime came rushing back to her.

Anna crashed backwards into a table from the force of the memories and rush of emotions, knocking over a water pitcher. It shattered into thousands of pieces at her feet, but Anna didn't hear the sound.

She had been here before– twice. The first time, Elsa had frozen the summer, and Anna and Kristoff had gone after her.

The second time, recently, she had escaped from Hans' captivity; she made it as far south down the mountain as Oaken's trading post before collapsing in a stream. It was there that she had felt arms around her, lifting her up, and a voice calling her name; when she awoke some time later, she saw Kristoff, holding her for warmth.

She knew now what her heart had been trying to tell her: Kristoff had been the one her heart remembered all along.

Another memory bubbled up then, something dark and sinister, a vision that caused the icy cold tendrils of fear to creep up her spine: Hans had poisoned her.

She could see it clearly in her mind: he'd had his fire-headed thugs hold her down while he forced a strange liquid down her throat. As much as she thrashed and screamed and fought back, she had been helpless against them, and soon enough she had felt the poison coursing through her body, racing through her veins and taking effect with a potency that muddled Anna's thoughts and made her feel disconnected from her own reality.

Hard knuckles rapped on the other side of Anna's door, startling the princess from her revelation.

"Anna?" It was Hans. "I heard a crash. What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she called out unconvincingly, unable to hide the frightful shake in her voice.

The doorknob turned with a _click_ , the door swinging open; of course she hadn't locked it. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to do so before falling asleep.

"Anna," Hans breathed when he entered the room, his voice chock full of concern and bright green eyes wide. In his gloved hand he held a shiny red apple, as though he had been about to have a snack when he became startled by the commotion from upstairs. "What happened?"

Anna's knuckles paled from the effort of gripping the edge of the table behind her. She remembered everything, including the prince's previous plot to ensnare the royal sisters and steal their kingdom.

Hans was behind it all.

"It was you," Anna accused, clasping at her breast as her heart continued to palpitate painfully. "I remember. Kristoff wasn't the one who tricked me… _you_ did. And you… you…"

The prince's face darkened then, the worry etched into his features melting away to reveal the malice beneath.

"Poisoned you? Yes. Although, I must confess that wasn't my _original_ intention."

Hans took a callous bite of his apple, chewing slowly and swallowing before tossing the fruit aside and advancing on Anna, who was trapped against the table with nowhere to go.

Anna willed herself to be strong. "Where are the Snowgies? And Marshmallow?"

Hans chuckled; it was a hideous, terrible sound. "Turns out ice monsters are terrified of fire. Who knew?"

He slammed either hand on the tabletop behind the princess, effectively pinning her as he leaned forward, close enough that Anna could smell the acidic stench of fruit on his breath.

"Why?" Anna's question was a whisper.

"You know why."

Revenge. Of course, he wanted revenge.

As if reading her thoughts, Hans' eyes flickered to her own. "Arendelle will be mine. And so will you."

"In your dreams," Anna bit out, fighting back the urge to spit in his face.

As if on cue, the Stabbington Brothers entered the room then, moving to stand behind Hans, easily eclipsing any path to the door that Anna may have been considering.

"No, Anna," Hans countered, straightening up. His voice was sickly sweet and dripped with darkness. "In _your_ dreams."

Anna shrieked then and shoved against the prince as hard as she could in a desperate bid to escape from him. It was fruitless, as Hans' brutish minions quickly had the petite woman in their grip, holding her fast.

Hans smoothed the lapels of his jacket and adjusted his cravat. He nodded towards the brothers to address them. "We still have a bit of that love potion left. Let's give it another go."

Fear dropped in Anna's stomach like a stone. "Love potion?"

Hans ignored the question.

"And if that doesn't work, we'll kill her." He paused, considering. "Actually, we won't kill her just yet. The Queen is most likely en route at this very moment. We'll use her as a bargaining chip."

With a tip of his chin the Stabbington Brothers dragged a screaming Anna out of the room and down the stairs, chuckling evilly all the way.

–

"Your plan won't work," Anna spat through gritted teeth, straining against her restraints. "Whatever it is. You won't win."

"Oh, Anna," the prince purred. "Don't you see?"

He was pacing the dining room before her, the double doors to the terrace open to fill the space with cold night air. As he spoke, the brother named Bastian re-entered the room, carrying a apothecary's bottle of purple liquid. It seemed to glow faintly, lit up from within.

"If you drink this potion and it takes the _proper_ effect this time, then I kill your sister and rule Arendelle as King, with you by my side as my dutiful, submissive, _obedient_ Queen."

Hans' grin turned wicked. "Or, if it doesn't work, then I kill both you and your sister and take Arendelle by force. Either way, I win."

Anna gasped. "You're a monster."

"I'm not a monster, dear Anna," he sneered, moving forward until he was standing toe-to-toe with the princess where she sat strapped to a chair made of ice. "As I recall, your sister is the one who's a monster."

Incensed by his words, Anna cried out and jolted forward, held fast by the leather belts around her wrists and ankles. Hans laughed, throwing his head back, causing angry tears to prick at the princess' lashes.

"Don't worry, Anna. This will all be over soon." The prince gestured with a tilt of his head.

Bastian moved forward to loom over the auburn-haired woman, cupping her small face easily in his massive, calloused palm. Anna could see and smell the blood and dirt beneath his fingernails and immediately felt ill, pressing her lips closed with all the strength she could muster as he brought the lip of the bottle to her mouth.

"Open wide, Princess," he demanded.

When Anna refused, committed to keeping her mouth shut at all costs, Bastian moved his fingers to wrap around her pale throat and squeezed. Hans watched on with a malicious glimmer in his eye.

Anna tried to fight it, but as his fingers constricted ever tighter, choking the life from her, her head swam and her vision blurred, and she inadvertently parted her lips to gasp for air. It was then that Bastian rammed the bottle into her mouth and tipped it, emptying the bitter liquid into the cavern of her mouth and forcing it closed with his palm over her face.

Instinctively, she swallowed.

The potion began to take effect almost instantaneously; she became nauseous, her blood turned to ice, and her hands went clammy. Her nerves skittered and jumped and her eyesight faded in and out, shifting forwards and backwards and side-to-side as the world around her went dark.

 _I have to fight it… I have to..._

She tried to think of Kristoff and her love for him, tried to hold on to the vision of his face for as long as she could, of his amber eyes and goofy grin and shaggy blonde hair, willing herself to not forget him again, but within moments he was gone, and when she tried to recall the image again she couldn't be sure of what she had just been thinking of. Her head drooped, chin resting against her collarbone, her body slumping in the chair.


	20. To Anna's Rescue

**Warning: Graphic descriptions of blood and violence ahead. Read with care!**

–

A thunderous _crash_ sounded from just outside the dining hall; seconds later the one-eyed brother, Cornelius, entered, holding a struggling ice harvester in his grasp.

"Well, well, well, look 'ho we've got 'ere," the red-headed brute chuckled. Prince Hans sauntered over to them from his place beside the unconscious princess.

"Didn't learn your lesson the first time?" He grabbed the captive man by the chin roughly and jerked his face up to look at his, scowling down at him. His free hand moved towards the sword at his hip. "Thought you'd tried to play the hero again, hm?"

Kristoff breathed heavily, his tawny eyes boring into Hans' dark green glare with white-hot hatred. A fresh trickle of blood rolled down his neck and back, his wound having reopened in the tussle. Without another word, Hans drew his sword from the sheath around his hips, gripping the handle with both hands, raising it up high above his head in preparation for the moment he'd bring it down upon Kristoff's neck. The blonde man's gaze flicked to Anna seated nearby and he struggled briefly, but was forced to the ground with a knee pressed against his back and his arms pulled taut behind himself.

Just as Hans was about to swing the blade, he was interrupted by a commotion from behind them.

Elsa burst through the double doors to the hall with a blast of ice, trailed closely by Lars.

" _Hans!_ " The Ice Queen's voice was hateful and full of fire; the simple shout of his name held a promise foretelling the vengeance she was about to rain down upon him.

Ready to defend the prince, Bastian lurched forward from the other side of the room, dagger in hand, to attack the intruder, but was stopped in his tracks instantaneously by a prison of icy stalagmites erected by the Queen, trapping him in place.

Hans whipped around to sneer at the silver-haired woman, his stance defiant as he lowered his sword an inch.

"Lars," Elsa called to the young man behind her, both hands still focused in front of her as they glowed with magic. "Put this traitor under arrest. We'll take him back to Arendelle to be dealt with."

Hans smirked, his fingers curling ever tighter around the grip of his sword. "Yes, Lars. Arrest the traitor."

When Lars didn't move, Elsa turned her attention to her guard. "Lars?"

His normally kind brown eyes flickered with malice, but Elsa saw it a moment too late; he was already leaping towards her, spearpoint aimed for her breast.

Acting quickly, Elsa shot off a powerful blast of ice to defend herself, but she was sideswiped by Lars at the precise moment she let her magic fly; it deflected and struck the ceiling, splintering the room in half with the crack that formed like a trench, running the length of the ceiling, down the wall, and along the floor, shaking the castle down to its foundation. A large brick of ice fell from the compromised architecture, missing Elsa by mere inches to land upon Lars' head, knocking him out cold.

In the commotion, Elsa was distracted and her concentration faltered, allowing Bastian to swing at the icicles that held him prisoner with two ham-handed fists, breaking free. He stepped out with confidence, cracking his neck.

"Elsa, get the guards!" Kristoff managed to shout over his shoulder, still held fast by Cornelius.

Elsa rose shakily to her feet, hands outstretched and sparking, ready to continue the fight. "I'm not leaving Anna!"

"We're outnumbered!" And then, more pressingly: "Go, _now!_ "

Torn, but knowing he was right, Elsa glanced from Kristoff to her sister and back again, before nodding and sprinting out the room.

" _After her!_ " Hans ordered the newly-freed Bastian; without needing to be told twice, he ran after the Ice Queen.

The darkly-dressed prince's skin seemed to visibly palpitate with his rage; his sweat-dampened hair hung in his face, his sharp shoulders rising and falling with the effort of his breathing. He waltzed forward, towards Kristoff, eyes ablaze with rancor. The tip of the steel blade he carried dragged along the floor, scratching a line in the ice with an ear-splitting _screech_.

"Now, where were we?" The words were heavy, laden with venom. "Ah, yes. I remember."

He raised the blade above his head, ready to finish the job once and for all, when he was interrupted by a soft, feminine voice.

"Hans?"

All three of the men glanced up in surprise to see the princess, wide awake and sitting up in her chair, her blue eyes terrified.

She swallowed hard. "My love, what's going on?"

Hans shot Kristoff a smirk before lowering his sword and walking over to Anna, kneeling before her. Her chest heaved up and down, her breaths shallow and thin.

"What do you remember, my sweet?" His green eyes glinted as he searched hers.

Anna's own turquoise focus darted about the room, glancing this way and that like a frightened doe. "I… I don't know. I don't remember anything. Why am I tied down like this?"

Hans narrowed his eyes.

"Is this a trick?" he asked, suspicious.

Trembling, Anna shook her head. "No, of course not. What reason would I have to trick you? You're my true love… I love you."

Satisfied with her answer, Hans leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The princess responded with earnest, opening her mouth for him, their tongues dancing together lustily, causing Anna to whimper with need. Kristoff watched on in torturous despair, unable to do anything to stop the nightmarish scene unfolding before him. He was too late. He was always too late. He had failed to protect Anna– failed to save her. Again.

His body went limp, listless in Cornelius' grip.

When Hans broke the kiss, Anna struggled to regain her breathing, licking her lips as she inhaled.

"Untie me, Hans. Please," she pleaded. "These straps are too tight. It hurts."

Hans obliged, freeing each of her ankles before setting to work on her wrists. When at last she was freed she rose to stand with him, gazing lovingly into his eyes as she smiled at her prince.

"Anna," Hans started, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear with a gloved hand. "Do you promise to serve me unconditionally? To rule Arendelle by my side, as my Queen?"

Anna smiled even wider and batted her lashes. "Of course."

She pulled him into an embrace, wrapping her arms around the prince's waist as her lips found his ear. It was then that her eyes flicked to Kristoff just behind Hans, her gaze lucid and forged from steel. Realization dawned on the ice harvester like a sunrise.

"It's like I said… _you're_ my true love."

Before Hans could realize what was happening, Anna's hands shot out and grabbed the pommel of his sword. Distracted by the struggle, Kristoff elbowed back into Cornelius' gut, catching him off guard and causing him to loosen his grip on the ice man just long enough for him to pull himself free. In one move, he snatched a rock of ice from the ground and swung it up and around, cracking the burly muscle-for-hire in the side of the head with a sickening contact. He collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

Anna and Hans fought for dominance, each one yanking the sword back and forth in an attempt to wring it free from the other; Hans managed to wrangle it free first and backhanded Anna across her face, causing her to stagger backward. Kristoff leapt for Hans then, his hands reaching for his neck, and the two began fighting.

Hans reached back and swung the blade forward, slashing Kristoff's thigh and causing the taller man to fall to a knee, hissing in pain as warm, wet blood began to seep through the leg of his trousers. In one swift movement Anna was back on her feet, grasping at the sword in an attempt to wrestle it away from the prince. She succeeded, and the steel clattered to the floor with the resonating _clang clang clang_ of metal on ice. Hans shoved her backwards easily in retaliation, causing Anna to stumble and crack her head on the corner of the large ornate table as she fell, rendering her unconscious.

"Anna!"

Kristoff leapt forward, using the weight of his body to his advantage to propel his fist into the side of Hans' face with a satisfying contact.

 _Damn_ , he'd always wanted to do that.

Hans staggered momentarily, reeling from the force of Kristoff's hit, before lunging forward and fisting his hands in Kristoff's collar before he could make his way over to the princess where she lay. He bobbed his russet-haired head back before projecting it forward with as much strength as he could muster, crashing his skull directly into Kristoff's nose.

Bright red splattered the icy blue floor. Dazed, Kristoff wobbled on his feet, taking an unsteady step back. The blood continued to pour from him, streaming down his mouth and chin, soaking the front of his dark shirt.

Hans reached back, then slung his fist into Kristoff's gut, causing the blonde man to gasp loudly. When he slumped forward, gripping his abdomen, Hans took Kristoff's bloodied face between his gloved hands– the white fabric now smattered with crimson– and brought his knee up as hard as he could, landing the blow directly into the bridge of the ice man's nose.

Kristoff collapsed to the floor, wheezing, his palms flat on the ground as he struggled to stay conscious. Having gained the upper hand, the prince took a moment to catch his breath and straighten the front of his coat, the golden ornaments blood-stained and dull.

When Anna's eyes opened, her vision was blurry. Across the room she could see the dark, edgeless shapes of two figures, silhouetted against the dying light of day that streamed in through the open doors; one man was on his hands and knees on the floor, with the other looming over him.

To her right, she could make out the edge of the pommel of a sword; it was just barely within her reach. To her left, she could see the crack in the floor caused by Elsa's strike that ran the length of the room, out towards the balcony, and it gave her an idea.

 _Kristoff…_

Hans glared down at the mountain man in disdain; he brought his boot up to his shoulder and kicked him over, forcing him onto his back. He stepped on the burly man's chest, pinning him to the floor, before he bent his knee and crouched forward, leaning on his elbow on his knee to leer into Kristoff's face. With his other hand, he unsheathed his dagger and pressed the point of it to Kristoff's jugular.

Anna shakily rose to her feet, her breaths coming in short bursts as she dragged the sword over to the crack in the floor, unnoticed by the fighting men; despite the throbbing pain in her head and her vision that faded in and out, she managed to heft it, and she brought the edge of the sword up and back down in one swift motion, driving the point of the weapon directly into the slot in the floor.

 _You saved me, Kristoff._

"You can't save her." Hans pressed his boot harder into Kristoff's chest, causing the pinned man to groan in pain. "This time, she can't even save _herself_."

 _Now it's my turn to save you._

"Wanna bet?"

Hans and Kristoff both turned in time to see Anna twist the sword into the floor with a deafening _crack_. The trench in the floor widened and splintered, the blue ice spider-webbing outward, shooting up the walls and out towards the balcony. She released the sword and ran forward, hurling herself into Hans with all of her might, tackling him off of Kristoff and to the floor, both of them sliding together until they hit the rail of the terrace.

Before Kristoff could even blink or shout her name, the balcony severed from the rest of the palace and fell down the mountainside below, taking Anna and the evil prince over in a tumble of crumbling shards and chunks of ice.

Just like that, she was gone.

A bloodcurdling scream bubbled up from Kristoff's throat before he even knew it was happening, piercing the air.

" _Anna!_ "

Desperate and panicked and half-crawling, he scrambled to the raw, jagged edge of the castle floor, grunting through the pain and the threat of unconsciousness that edged just behind his eyelids as he attempted to look over the precipice. The winter wind howled and whistled as it blew, only serving to emphasize the empty silence now that Anna was gone from this world.

He felt numb. For perhaps the millionth time in his life, a vision flashed through his mind's eye, of Anna in a wedding dress and Anna in his bed and Anna beside the fireplace holding a baby boy or girl who looked like a little of him and a little of her, and his heart clenched painfully with the same old regret that sucked the air from his lungs and froze the blood in his veins. But this regret _was_ different; this regret was finite, and it washed over him with a chill, enveloping him in a cocoon of anguish until he could do no more than lay on the floor and revel in the warmth that continued to trickle out of his mortal shell, as he waited for the black oblivion of death to consume him. He wished for nothing else.

A low rumbling started then, from below, steadily growing louder and louder. Kristoff opened his eyes and lifted his head enough to see a mass of white rising above the level of the floor; Elsa's ice monster, Marshmallow, appeared, raising itself up from the depths of the mountain's cliffside. The Snowgies, dozens of them, lined themselves along the creature's shoulders and limbs, clinging to their big brother for protection, and held in Marshmallow's claws–

"Anna," Kristoff breathed, not quite believing his eyes. Maybe he'd already passed into the afterlife, one where Anna was alive and he'd get to be with her for eternity; it was a small comfort.

Regardless, there she was, hanging to one of the creature's icy claws, looking no worse for wear for someone who just took a violent tumble down a mountainside.

"Like a crazy trust exercise," Anna huffed with a laugh as she slid from Marshmallow's palm and onto the floor, wobbling a bit before steadying herself.

The ice harvester managed to scramble to his feet, forcing back the dizziness that threatened to pull his legs out from under him. This wasn't the afterlife; he was alive. She was alive.

She was real.

Kristoff was flabbergasted. "How did you know he'd be there to catch you?"

"I didn't," she replied with a mischievous smile.

His beautiful, crazy princess.

"You really _are_ crazy, you know that?" His voice was more relieved than joking.

Anna opened her mouth to respond, but her face paled before she could speak. It was then, when she brought a shaking hand to her side and peeled it away, that she saw the bright red that gushed from where she had been stuck with Hans' blade.

Her knees buckled and her legs gave out, but Kristoff was at her side before she hit the floor, catching her in his arms.

"Kristoff…"

They weren't out of the woods yet.

Kristoff pulled at the tear in the fabric of her gown, wincing when he saw the deep gash beneath, the blood that flowed forth like a scarlet fountain. A fresh chill of panic began to creep into his system.

"I'm sorry," Kristoff said softly. "I should have told you the truth all along. This is… this is all my fault."

Anna shook her head weakly. "I know now why you didn't."

"You remember?" Kristoff tried to swallow, but his mouth was as dry as cotton.

Anna managed a sad smile. "I do."

"You must hate me."

"I could never hate you, Kristoff." She coughed, and Kristoff could feel the tiny splatters of wet that hit his chin. And then: "I love you."

With a last huff, her eyes rolled back and she slipped into unconsciousness. Her heart was still beating, her body still warm and pulsing with life– a life that was rapidly fading away in his hold.

He had to do something, quickly–

The doors to the hall flew open. Elsa, flanked by a dozen or so guards, stormed into the room. When she saw her sister, unconscious and bleeding out in Kristoff's lap, she nearly fainted.

"Anna!" she shrieked, rushing to her sister's side. She fell to her knees, taking a cold hand in her even colder ones.

The queen's head snapped up, eyes locking on his with an intensity Kristoff had never before seen. "Kristoff, we _have_ to take her back to Arendelle."

"Her wounds are too severe, we'd never make it in time," the ice man insisted, fear seeping into his voice. "You have to do something to stop the bleeding. Can't you use your powers?"

"I- I can't!" Elsa cried with a sob, her icy blue eyes glistening with moisture. "I don't know how!"

"You have to do _something_." Kristoff's timbre cracked. "Please. I don't know what I'll do without her. If I live, and she dies…"

Elsa reached forward tentatively, then yanked her hands back.

"I'm afraid," she whispered to neither of them in particular.

"Elsa, if you don't do something now, then Anna will… will…" A single tear slipped from his eye at the thought that was too horrible to voice out loud.

Nodding, Elsa drew in a deep breath, as if she could inhale the strength she needed through her nose, and placed her shaky hands on Anna's side, steeling herself as ice crystals began to form on the blood-soaked flesh beneath her palms.


	21. Second Chances

Anna awoke from a dreamless sleep to find herself in bed. _Her_ bed. She knew now that it was her bed, in her room, in the palace.

She remembered.

Gray light filtered in through the window, casting everything in a hazy glow. Whether it was dusk or dawn, she couldn't be sure; she had no idea how long she had been asleep.

She was suddenly aware of a presence beside her, and the princess turned her head to see a mess of shaggy, blonde hair splayed across her arm.

Kristoff was seated beside her bed; his torso leaned forward and lying flat on the mattress, his arms crossed beneath his head, her hand clasped loosely in his. He was asleep.

His soft breaths ghosted across her skin with each exhale, raising the hairs there, and she felt her love for him swell within her. Love, with a touch of sadness… but _love_ , most of all.

Scooting closer, she snuggled herself against him, securing her hand in his palm and nestling her head against his until they were nearly face-to-face, and fell back into a dreamworld.

–

Anna awoke sometime later to a darkened room illuminated only by dim candlelight. Kristoff was gone, and Elsa had taken his spot, sitting beside Anna's bed as she thumbed through the pages of a novel. When the Ice Queen realized her sister was awake, she tossed the book aside as though it were nothing more than a piece of refuse and hugged her sister tightly.

When she pulled away, she held her younger sister's hands in her own on the bed, and asked the question: "Anna, what do you remember?"

It was a loaded question. Where to even begin? She remembered everything, after all.

"Well, I know you've had your powers for… for forever, I guess," Anna answered softly in the darkness of the room, after taking a few moments to think. "I remember you striking me with ice as a child."

"Yes," Elsa said, surprised but guilty; it seemed that, when Anna regained her memories, she had regained _all_ of the memories that she had ever lost in her lifetime. The queen tented her trembling fingers beneath her chin, creating a steeple. "This wasn't the first time you lost your memories."

"I remember…" Anna's voice trailed off as her hand travelled to her side; Elsa's gaze followed the motion. She remembered the cold-hot sting of Hans' blade as it penetrated her flesh and she flinched at the phantom pain she felt there.

When she carefully pulled the blanket aside, opened her robe, and rolled the fabric of her nightshift up to her ribs, she gasped at what she saw.

The spot on her side where she had been stabbed– where she _remembered_ being stabbed– was completely healed. The white, frostbitten skin was made up of what looked like a bunch of diamond-shaped fractals, creating a scar that was the shape of a snowflake no larger than her fist.

"Whoa," Anna mused as she poked and prodded at the shiny flesh beside her navel with a finger; it felt numb, and slightly cold. "Wicked."

"I had to freeze the wound shut to stop the bleeding. It's not pretty, but it's the best I could do," Elsa murmured with a grimace. And then, her tone sombering even further: "You saved Kristoff's life."

"Well, I guess I sort of owed him since he saved mine." Anna shrugged. As though tackling an armed villain off of the side of a mountain was no big deal (to Anna, it kind of wasn't).

"I remember Hans' poisoning me… the first time– and Kristoff saving me…"

Elsa nodded, confirming the accuracy of her memory. "You're lucky it was Kristoff who found you. Even Sven is still faster than the fastest horse in Arendelle. Another hour and who knows what would have became of you."

A macabre silence passed between them; they knew all too well what would have become of the Crown Princess if Kristoff hadn't stripped her naked and shared his body warmth with her in his cabin that night. Only an ice harvester would have had the wisdom to know that hypothermia would kill long before the poison could have.

"I was poisoned again," Anna spoke suddenly, biting at her lip. "The second time…"

"Yes, Kristoff told me about that." Elsa seemed uneasy. "I was going to ask you about it. The doctor found nearly no trace of poison in your blood this time. But Kristoff said that Hans had given you some. Right before..."

 _Right before Lars betrayed me_ , the Queen thought bitterly. _He betrayed all of Arendelle._

After interrogating the Stabbington Brothers prior to their deportation back to Corona, the royal detectives had learned some of the details of Lars' treason. Whether or not he was coerced against his will or was a Hans Westergaard sympathizer to begin with, Elsa would never know; he was dead now, and so was Hans. There was no point dwelling on it any longer, despite the guilt she felt.

"Before what?" Anna asked tentatively, gently.

"Before…" Elsa cleared her throat and shook her head to clear her mind. "...Kristoff and I arrived."

Before Kristoff had arrived and watched his beloved kiss another man– the man who had tried to kill both herself and him. Kissing Hans had been even worse than being poisoned or struck or stabbed by the evil prince. But Anna knew, somewhere deep down, that she'd do it all again in a heartbeat to save Kristoff. Her one true love.

She'd do anything for him.

"It wasn't a poison. It was supposed to be a love potion, but it didn't work. I think it didn't work because my body tried to reject it, because I loved… _love_ Kristoff," Anna explained, her brows drawing together as she concentrated, remembering. "I still loved him the first time, but it hurt, so it affected me more– I wasn't able to reject it as well. But I think, the second time, my feelings of love were even stronger, and it didn't work because I was able to fight it off better. Like, a tolerance– or an immunity. If that makes sense."

The Queen nodded and shifted in her seat. She knew they were about to breach the topic that would cause the most pain, for the both of them; she could feel the foreboding in the air between them.

"What else do you remember about Kristoff?" Elsa pressed gently.

Anna's lips flattened into a thin line. "I remember that he and I were supposed to be wed."

Elsa's gaze turned downward, but she said nothing.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Anna's question was a whisper. "All along… why did you both keep me in the dark?"

"You weren't _you_ anymore, Anna," Elsa replied in haste, desperate to explain herself, her voice twinged with an undeniable sadness; she grabbed Anna's hands in hers once more. "It killed me to see you, moping around the castle every day, looking so dejected. So sad. Like you were missing a part of yourself."

She swallowed hard and willed herself to continue speaking. "You had only recently started to get better, after months of no progress, when you… you…"

Anna knew she was talking about the kidnapping and subsequent poisoning.

"I'm so sorry, Anna," Elsa sobbed, and burying her face atop their joined hands. "Please don't be angry with me. I'm sorry I lied. I just didn't want you to get hurt again... forgive me."

"I'm not angry with you, Elsa," Anna said softly and sincerely, smoothing her sister's hair. "I could never be angry with you. There's nothing to forgive. You're my sister– I love you."

Elsa raised her head then, her face streaked with tears.

"I love you, too, Anna. I promise I'll be a better sister to you."

Anna smiled. "You're already the best sister I could ever ask for."

Elsa smiled back, perhaps the widest smile Anna could ever remember seeing on her sister's face, as her dainty fingertips came up to wipe at the wetness on her face.

"Speaking of Kristoff…" Anna's voice trailed off as she gazed around the room, as though he may be lurking in the shadows, waiting to make his appearance. "Where is he?"

Elsa let out an involuntary, indignified snort, and quickly recovered by covering her mouth with a hand. Anna raised a questioning eyebrow at her sister.

"He didn't leave your side– not _once_ – for three whole days." Elsa almost sounded proud. "He wouldn't."

" _Three days?_ How did he eat or bathe or relieve himsel–" Anna blanched. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."

"He refused to leave, even when I threatened to have him beheaded."

The princess gasped and sat up a little straighter. "You threatened _what?_ "

Elsa's eyes flickered with mirth; it was a look eerily reminiscent of Anna's own infamous, mischievous expression.

"Well, I didn't threaten him _directly_. I told him that he had to leave, under the Queen's orders, and he still refused. He said, and I quote: 'Over my cold, dead body.' I told him that could be arranged. He still didn't budge."

Anna felt her face warm at hearing of his dedication to her– even after all they had been through.

"So, how did you finally get him to leave?" Anna asked, her curiosity piqued. She imagined it probably took at least six or seven guards to drag him out, kicking and screaming all the way. He wasn't a small man by any means.

"I promised him _one_ condition in exchange for his willing departure for the day. He needed to take care of himself, and I needed to take care of _you_. I figured he could at least acquiesce to _that_ much in exchange for…"

Anna leaned forward. "In exchange for what?"

The Ice Queen's eyes glinted. "In exchange for my blessing for your marriage."

Anna's heart slowed down and sped up at the same time; she would've never believed it possible until that moment.

Kristoff still wanted to marry her, despite everything. It made her spirits soar for the first time in a _long_ time– as far as she could remember.

"Oh!" Elsa's smirk widened and she squeezed her hands tighter around her sister's. "And there is _one_ more thing."

–

When Anna stepped out into the hall after breakfast the following day and turned the corner, Kristoff was already there waiting for her, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his powder-blue shirt with the woollen vest and crimson sash. How she loved and missed that shirt.

She noticed the bandage around the back of his neck and felt an ache in her chest. His strong, handsome nose was swollen, his eye sockets bruised and purple, his cheeks and lips split with tiny red cuts that had begun to scab over. All for her.

All because of her.

"Hi." His voice was soft.

"Hi," Anna replied, anxiously tucking a stray lock of ginger hair behind her ear as she approached, keeping a reasonable distance between them.

Glancing up and down the hall, she gestured with her head for Kristoff to follow as she made her way into a nearby room; it was a small parlor, the walls lined with art and cases of literature. It was a place that would allow them privacy for their impending conversation.

Kristoff spoke before she had even finished closing the door behind them. "I'm sorry, Anna. I should have told you the truth."

His words rang true, for more than he meant them for; he should have _always_ told her the truth. Covering herself with her arms, the same way Elsa so often did, Anna moved over to the window, the dark green velvet of her dress swishing with the motion; she watched the snow outside fall in fat clumps without really watching.

"I'll do it, Anna," Kristoff said with a start, moving to stand in front of her and taking her smaller hand in his larger one, holding their joined hands aloft between them, pressed over the beating of his heart. "I'll be a duke. I'll be anything. I'll do whatever it takes."

" _Kristoff_ ," Anna admonished, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You don't have to be anything except the man who loves me."

Searching his golden eyes with her own, her tone softened. "It's _your_ choice."

Kristoff's brow furrowed. "But… don't you want me to have a title? And an estate? And everything that comes with it?"

"It's called compromise, Kristoff– when you're willing to sacrifice for the one you love. I don't care _what_ you are or what we have or where we live… as long as you're happy with me."

He was silent for a beat. When he spoke again, the guilty tone of his voice pained Anna's heart.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you… I don't–" His voice hitched. "I don't deserve another chance with you. I'll never be worthy of you."

The princess shook her head, her auburn braids swishing from the movement, and let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"You've saved me _plenty_ of times, Kristoff." Anna tapped a finger on her chin. "In fact, I _distinctly_ _remember_ you saving my life on at least a half-dozen occasions– give or take. Even so…"

She reached up to caress his jaw and Kristoff's heart leapt at her words; she _remembered_.

"...you're more worthy than you know yourself to be. You're precious to me, Kristoff."

"So… you _don't_ hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because of… what I did..." Kristoff forced himself to spit out the words. "Our wedding."

"Oh." Anna sighed. "I told you already. I could never hate you… I'm just… _sad_. I wish you would have told me what you were feeling before it was too late."

Kristoff was silent for a moment, staring at his shoes. When he looked back up at her, into her eyes, she could see the hopefulness that resided in his amber irises.

"So, if I asked you again… for real this time… would you still marry me?"

Anna's hand reached up to cup his cheek, the weathered skin there rough with stubble; when she answered, her voice was sincere and full of devotion: "I'd do _anything_ you asked."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

Anna choked on a sob and her blue eyes glistened as they gazed into his– those hopeful amber irises that she had been missing for far too long. " _Definitely_ yes."

In one swift motion, Kristoff stole forward and grasped Anna's face in his hands as he kissed her passionately, the months of frustration and emotion pouring out into the place where their lips met. Anna kissed him back just as desperately, if not more so, as her tears spilled over, fisting her hands in his hair to pull her ice master as close to her as physically possible.

She swore then that she would never lose– or forget– him again.

–

 **One more chapter!**


	22. Kristofer

"Do you remember how I'd touch you… here?"

The princess nodded breathlessly. "Yes."

"What about… _here?_ "

Anna hissed and arched her back, rising off of the bed. Kristoff had one hardened bud of her nipple tortured between his thumb and forefinger, the other in his mouth, suckling.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Definitely yes," Anna gasped out. Her fingers reached down to grip Kristoff's shoulders, urging him back up to her face to passionately lock lips.

They were back in his cabin– _their_ cabin– a roaring fire blazing in the fireplace, making the air in the cabin toasty and warm despite the freezing snow that fell outside in blankets of white.

When Kristoff slid his aching hardness inside of his readied princess, they moaned together in unison at their joining, each one gripping the other as though if they didn't hold on tight enough they would disappear. His mouth found hers once more, swallowing her moans as he thrusted in and out of her tight wetness with increasing urgency, bringing them both to the edge of something wonderful.

Kristoff ensured that Anna came first, the pad of his thumb finding its way down between them to rub and prod at the sensitive pearl at the top of her sex, the way he knew she liked; it caused her to keen and fist her hands in the flesh of his toned back, hanging on for her life as the eruptions crashed through her body, starting at her center and making their way outward to the tips of her fingers and toes and tingling her scalp. He followed after, tumbling into bliss with her.

" _God_ , I love you." Kristoff nuzzled his face into her neck as he came down, breathing in the musky, sweet smell of her sweat-dampened, auburn curls. "I can't wait to finally call you my wife."

"You might as well call me your wife now," Anna giggled, twirling a lock of his golden hair around her finger. "Gothi did marry us, after all. We're already joined in the eyes of the old Norse gods. Our ceremony in Arendelle next week is pretty much just going to be for show at this point."

Kristoff rolled off of her and sighed. She scooted against him, laying her head on his chest and relaxing into his body, they way she always had– the way she always did.

"I'm not sure how you're going to move any of your stuff in here. There's hardly any room. I may have to build an extension." He ran the hand not holding Anna through his hair. "Maybe having our own estate wouldn't have been such a bad idea."

"Having our own estate _would've_ been nice," Anna said. "But spending every other week at the palace, and the weeks in between up here, is going to be even better. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Anna smirked then. "After all, it's going to be the three of us now."

Kristoff pulled away enough to look at her face, cocking his head at her. "You, me, and Elsa?"

Anna shook her head, her turquoise eyes glinting.

"... You, me, and Sven?"

Anna shook her head again, her knowing smile widening.

"You, me, and Ola–"

"No," Anna laughed. "I _mean…_ "

She took his hand in hers and placed it on her stomach; if he hadn't known her body so well, he wouldn't have picked up on the subtle way it ballooned slightly more than normal.

Kristoff's eyes went wide. "You mean…"

He couldn't believe it. He was going to have a family again– a _real_ family– with Anna; his princess.

She nodded excitedly. "Elsa said the doctor confirmed it when he examined me to make sure there was no more poison in my blood. I wanted to be sure before I told you."

Rolling on top of Anna once more, Kristoff stared down at her in awe, his heart swelling with gratefulness at the incredible gift she had just given him. He showered her face and neck in kisses, causing her to let out an airy laugh.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Kristoff asked breathlessly, pulling back to stare into her sparkling blue eyes; he could barely contain the joy in his voice.

"It's still too early to tell. Elsa thinks it's a boy, since it's been easy so far, but I think that's an old wives' tale."

"I'll _definitely_ have to build that extension now."

"Shut up and kiss me."

–

"Uhh, Anna? You might want to come see this."

The newly-made mother felt a chill run down her spine. Ever since the birth of their child a few weeks prior, statements like the one her husband had just uttered put her on edge almost immediately, putting her protective maternal instincts into overdrive.

"What is it? Is something the matter?" Anna rose from her seat in the castle garden where she had been reading beside the sunflowers, enjoying the summer air, and swallowed thickly, setting her book aside. "Is it the baby? Is he alright?"

She had just put little Kristofer down for a nap less than an hour ago. What could possibly have happened? Nervously, she played with the bracelet on her wrist.

Kristoff nodded hastily, uneasily, and rubbed the back of his head with a hand. "Kristofer's fine. Well... _sort of._ "

After an excruciating, two-day labor, Anna had given birth to a healthy baby boy– whom they had aptly named Kristofer– with Kristoff's amber eyes and Anna's freckled cheeks. His hair, however, was a shocking white-blonde color, similar to Elsa's. It had been a surprise to everyone, especially Anna, but she just figured it must run somewhere in the family line and hadn't been worried about it.

Until now.

As Anna rushed into the nursery ahead of her husband, holding her skirts aloft in her pale-knuckled fists, the sight that greeted her made her head spin; the entire room was covered, floor-to-ceiling, in a layer of…

"Ice," Anna breathed. Everything was frozen, from the window on the far wall to the rocking horse in the corner beside the door; even the crib had kaleidoscope-like patterns and icicles trailing around its posts. Tiny snowflakes drifted through the air, melting when they landed on Anna's face.

"Oh... my... "

Glancing at each other, Kristoff took his wife's hand in his as they walked together towards the bassinet, peering down to see little Kristofer still soundly asleep, seemingly unbothered by the magic he unknowingly manifested around him.

"How in the–"

Realization dawned on Anna's face. "When Elsa healed me..."

Her hand subconsciously moved to touch her side; the side with the snowflake-shaped scar. "... she didn't _just_ heal me."

Kristoff exhaled slowly, carefully, but nodded slightly in agreement with his wife's remark. "That explains the hair."

Gazing upon their child's sleeping face, Anna felt the unconditional love she felt for the tiny life swell in her heart, making her feel warm all over despite the chill of the room. He was a little bit of her, a little bit of him, and now even a little bit of her sister. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect child. Or a more perfect sister. Or a more perfect husband.

Their family was _perfect_.

Anna turned to Kristoff and kissed him then, moving her soft lips firmly against his. He kissed her back just as lovingly, the way he always did– the way she remembered.

When she pulled away from the kiss, Anna was smiling, and she gave Kristoff's hand a reassuring squeeze as she spoke: "Looks like Arendelle has a new prodigy."

"Don't be silly, feisty pants," Kristoff murmured, kissing the crown of his wife's head. His warm brown eyes crinkled at her in jest. "Nobody could ever possibly replace _you_."

Anna leaned into her husband's chest and smiled against the fabric, committing everything about him to her memory for the millionth time, knowing that it was moments like these that made the most perfect memories.

–

 **Wow. It's frickin' done, my dudes. Hope the cheesy ending makes up for all the angst (it probably doesn't, but still). Huge thanks to everyone who stuck it out with me and left lovely reviews and messages and follows– you guys are the best and you make my day, every single day– seriously! :-)**


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